High Society
by Noirreigne
Summary: Repost! From the minute he laid eyes on Miss Blair Waldorf in a dirty moneylenders office Lord Chuck Bass knew he had to capture her heart. Husband hunting, a London season and Chuck in pursuit. Historical Regency/AU
1. Chapter 1

If the friendship of Blair Waldorf and Serena van der Woodsen could be measured into money the cousins could afford to buy half of London. Unfortunately, being only a small pension away from poverty they could barely afford to live in the Dower house that Serena's mother, Lady van der Woodsen, had been deeded for her lifetime. One of them needed to marry a wealthy husband and Blair knew that her chances of attracting an eligible bachelor were slim. One only had to look at Serena to know that she was where their fortunes lay. She was everything Blair was not. Blonde and angelic like a princess out of a storybook, her edges soft where Blair's were hard, she was the ideal society wife. The problem was introducing her into society, getting her invited to the elite parties and balls. That took money, something they were sadly lacking. That was all about to change if Blair had anything to do with it.

"I still don't understand why it has to be me," Serena asked, her golden head bowed over her embroidery as she pulled a green skein of silk through the outline of a leaf.

"Because you are exactly the type of lady that the gentleman will flock too," Blair said as she shoved her own embroidery aside, her pink roses in tatters from her having to redo every stitch several times to get the lines straight.

"With your blonde hair, blue eyes and trim figure you are exactly the type of debutant that society idolizes." Blair neglected to mention that it was also Serena's gentle disposition and biddable nature that also fit in with the type of women most prized in London's marriage mart.

"Nonsense! You are just as lovely." Serena said, her brow furrowing. How do you not know it won't be you who captures some lonely misers heart? Maybe he will have a passion for brunettes that only you can fulfill. Struck on the spot he will immediately propose a trip to Gretna Green to be married." Serena clasped her hands over her heart all but swooning as she pictured the romantic scenario.

Blair frowned at her sternly. "First of all a miser is not the type of husband we want. We need someone who is free with his money and will not mind overlooking the fact that his bride comes with no dowry. Second, Gretna Green? That will only create scandal we can ill afford. Only those with no other resort go that route. The type that are about to have a unexpected bundle in nine months," she said disdainfully. "I hardly think we fall into the category of the types of people looking for a quick elopement. Or at least we better not," she said darkly.

"I don't know that is anything we need to worry about considering we never see anyone here but the butcher, the baker and the local farmers and they are certainly not looking for a wife who knows only the finer arts. They all think we are quite useless," Serena giggled.

" I like being useless. I wish I had the luxury of being nothing, but useless," Blair sighed.

"I'm sorry B. It hasn't been easy taking care of Mama and I, has it?" Serena bit her lip, looking down at the worn and patched rug that carpeted the floor.

"S, it isn't that," Blair said, rushing to reassure her dear friend. "Sometimes I just wish for a different life. One where I don't have to think of where every pence and pound is coming from and how to squeeze it as far as it will go. I miss the days when my Mama and Papa were alive and I lived in a world of fairytales and selfishness. I don't know what I would have done if you and Aunt Lily hadn't taken me in after my parents death. Most likely I would be in debtor's prison or worse."

Serena's jumped up and rushed over to Blair, her arms surrounding her in an impromptu hug. "Don't even think like that. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't arrived when you did. The tradesmen were at the door like wolves. Without you threatening to take them to court for cheating us and forcing them to lower our debt we would have been absolutely penniless. We couldn't have managed without you at all."

"If only our parents hadn't been so foolish with money. How does one go through a fortune so quickly?" sniffed Blair.

"I don't know. I guess they only live in the now, with no thought of the future," Serena said sadly.

The future was all Blair thought about. She pulled out of the embrace, seizing Serena's hands in hers as though through sheer force of will she could change their circumstances. "We will go to London and you will be the most celebrated debutante the haut ton has ever seen, a true diamond of the first water. You will have so many proposals we can afford to be picky and hold out for a gentleman you won't hate having to see over the breakfast table."

Serena blushed prettily. "I will marry the first man who offers to pay off our debts and loves my family."

"Nonsense. I wouldn't be that cruel. You must make sure he has nice legs, and a nice backside, something you can stand to spend years looking at."

"Kind eyes."

"Hmmm," Blair said, trying to imagine the type of gentleman she wouldn't mind staring at. He would definitely have to have piles of money; enough she could overlook his flaws.

"He must have kind eyes and a nice smile," Serena added, smiling dreamily.

"Of course, anything you want." Blair nodded, as she calculated just the right amount of money she would need to overlook certain flaws in a prospective husband. Unlike Serena, she had a very different view of love and marriage. Her parents, before their death, had shown her just how awful a marriage could be and she knew that if she ever took the plunge there had to be something in it for her. Something to keep her warm when all that was left was anger and arguments.

Both girls looked up as Serena's mother and Blair's aunt, Lily van der Woodsen, floated into the room.

"Hello girls," she greeted, a bouquet of fresh cut arranged flowers in hand.

Blair wanted to be angry with her for helping to put them in the mess they were now in, but to do so would like kicking a puppy. Lily meant no harm; there wasn't an unkind bone in her body. She just drifted by in life, her attention constantly engaged by whatever new artistic endeavor that caught her attention. Right now it was flower arranging, last month it was watercolors. The whole house practically smelled like a perfumery or worse a house of ill repute. Every bowl and vase in the place was filled to the brim with her latest floral creations. Every day there was something new and pretty to look at, something that kept her further and further removed from reality, leaving Blair and sometimes Serena to fill the gaps in the household.

"Mama, Blair has the most wonderful plan, we are going to London to make our debuts," Serena said, glancing at Blair in encouragement.

"It's about time." She dumped the old floral arrangement, a creation she had called Sunflower ala naturale into the fireplace and replaced it with a more woodsy arrangement of honeysuckle and wild roses. "You girls are practically old maids. I was married right before my eighteenth birthday. How old are both of you now?"

"Nineteen, Aunt Lily" Blair said with just a hint of long suffering exasperation.

She looked at them, distress in her eyes. "Oh goodness, we had better head up to London sooner than later. I hadn't realized you both had grown up so much."

"That is what happens," Blair said simply, hoping Lily wouldn't bother to ask the how's and why's of how they were going to afford a season in London.

For once Lily seemed to effortlessly slip into the parental role. "Are you quite sure we can afford that? Not that I don't want you both to have the loveliest debuts ever, but just last month you told me there wasn't enough money for new paint brushes."

"Yes, well," Blair cleared her throat. "Unbeknownst to both of you I have been putting money aside after the accounts were settled for the last two years. Somehow I have managed to save enough to rent a nice little house in Mayfair, not the elite end, of course, but still a respectable enough neighborhood. With what is left we can put towards purchasing a modest trousseau and perhaps throwing a very small party to introduce Serena to the ton."

"Blair too," Serena piped in, giving Blair a stern look.

Lily for all her shortcomings knew that there was no way Blair could have saved enough in two years to treat them all to a season. Her own debut had cost more than two years of their complete income combined.

"How is that possible Blair?"

"I may also have rented out the dower house while we are gone and sold my mother's jewelry." Blair flushed, spots of color blossoming across her cheekbones. "I truly hope you don't mind my renting the house, but it seemed silly for it to site here empty when someone could be living in it, lining our pockets with rent money."

"Blair," Lily cried, tears sparkling in her eyes. "This is your home too, I don't care if you rent it out I just can't bear the thought of you selling any of your inheritance."

Serena looked at Blair in surprise, she had no idea that Blair had done that. She remembered the last time they went into town Blair had excused herself for a bit, but she had just assumed she wanted some time to herself. She couldn't believe she had been so oblivious. If only she had asked, pried further into her affairs, Blair would still have her mothers pearl necklace and earrings. It was all that had been left of her mothers things after the estate had been sold to pay her parents debts and Serena couldn't stand her not having this small remembrance.

"It really wasn't that big of a deal. My mother hated pearls, always complained they were common. I really didn't want them." Blair said, her voice quavering just a little.

Lily walked over and tucked Blair into her arms, she resisted only a moment before accepting the comfort her aunt offered. "You beautiful, brave girl," Lily murmured.

As soon as I am married I will buy them back for you. I swear it will be the first thing I ever ask of my husband." Serena vowed, looking at Blair with sorrow.

"Please Serena, what are you going to do? As soon as he says 'I do', beg him to buy your cousin's jewelry back from the local pawn shop?" Blair stepped out of Lily's arms and resumed her seat, picking up her embroidery from the floor. She couldn't stand to lie to Lily and Serena and if she didn't busy herself with something other than talking she was afraid she would give up the rest of her scheme and that would never do. They would never approve. "I think you'd best wait until after the wedding night," she said slyly, skirting a glance at Serena from under her eyelashes.

"Blair!" Serena exclaimed.

Lily beamed at them proudly. She knew that despite Blair's unorthodox method of financing a season it would all turn out perfect in the end. While Blair constantly underestimated her beauty, she was just as lovely Serena in her own way. With her brunette curls, sparkling eyes and dry wit she was a perfect foil for Serena. She had no doubt that together they would turn every head in London and it wouldn't be long before she presided over not one wedding, but two.

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Lord Bass stood outside the offices of O'Conall and Son's Financial Consultants located near London's largest workhouse, his carriage waiting patiently for him as he entered the building. He didn't want to be here, but Nate was his best friend and he couldn't let him pay the price for the damage his father had caused with his gambling debts. Not that Nate shouldn't suffer a little considering he had been thick headed enough to get involved with moneylenders. Then again Nate had always had more hair than brains, but he had been there for him since they were children and for that Chuck was grateful. Because of that loyalty and friendship he was here to pay Nate's debts, clear the slate for him so to speak. Without this loan and it's 25 percent usury interest hanging over his head, Nate would be comfortably well off with the pension his grandfather had left him. It really was too bad Nate had done the honorable thing and decided to cover his father's debts after the bounder had disappeared across the channel. If he had been in Nate's shoes, he wouldn't have bothered. That is why Nate was the gentleman and he, while technically a Viscount, would always be considered a scoundrel.

He entered the office nonchalantly as if he hadn't a care in the world. A difficult task since the place was so dusty and smoky from a barely smoldering fire in the fireplace he was tempted to pull out his handkerchief and cover his nose and mouth to keep from breathing in the putrid air. Instead he feigned a disaffected air, leisurely taking a seat at across from someone he assumed was an O'Conall. His hand reached into his pocket drawing out a heavy leather pouch, which he promptly threw with a clank on the stained and paper-laden desk.

"I believe that settles the debt the owed by a certain Mr. Nathaniel Archibald."

The skinny rat-like moneylender reached out greedily, dumping the coins out in a pile, swiftly counting the gold guineas one by one.

"That young bloke got himself in a heap of trouble now, didn't he?" The man chortled.

"Yes, he had the misfortune of falling into your grasp," Chuck said dryly.

"What? Why I did nothing, but help the gentleman," he whined, his eyes shifting nervously.

Chuck looked at him sardonically, tapping the gold plated tip of his fashionable mahogany walking stick on the edge of the desk. "Sure, you helped him. You helped him right out of several years income."

"It wasn't like that, my lord."

He continued to tap on the desk, the absent-minded thumping becoming more sinister with each tap. He stared down at his prey, his look becoming grimmer with each tap. "Unlike my friend, I know exactly how you operate. First it is five percent interest, than ten and when that is or isn't paid the interest is raised again, not without threatening some physical violence. As far as you are concerned the debt is never quite paid off. Am I right?"

The man belatedly realized he was dealing with a lion instead of the usual gentleman lambs that came to him for slaughter.

"We provide a service we do," his voice rang out nervously as he weighed his options, every second spent in the company of this unknown gentleman making him more and more uneasy. This wasn't what he was used to dealing with. This was no sad toff down on his luck and desperate to sign his inheritance away for a few pounds, this man was dangerous.

"I believe your service to Mr. Archibald is now completed. If you will hand me his contract, please." It was obvious to Mr. O'Conall the please was anything but.

"We don't normally do that. We like to hang onto the contracts, keep them for our records," he said stubbornly, some hint of bravery still left. It didn't last as Lord Bass shot him a look of pure malevolence.

"Don't make me ask again," Chuck said. His thumb found the hidden latch on his cane, releasing the thin steel blade that lay hidden within. With a loud thwack he swung the sword over the desk, slicing through the parchment papers atop and scarring the wood beneath.

Stumbling from his chair in horror the unidentified O'Conall stopped in front of a wall safe and rifled through his pockets for the key. Smiling nervously at Chuck he quickly found the contract. Tossing it on the desk he watched in pain as it was quickly shredded to bits and pieces.

"If that will be all, my lord, I am quite busy…" his voice trailed off as the look on Chuck's face hardened.

"I think it is time you popped into the local tavern for a drink."

"Please, your Grace, I'm just trying to run a business," he pleaded.

"I would hardly call this a business. More like blackmail and extortion. How many others have paid their debts thrice over only to find themselves still beholden to you because of some barely legal contract they signed under duress?" Chuck rose, the pointed tip of his sword scraping across the man's dirty unwashed linen shirt. The hint was received. His lips twisted in dark amusement as Mr. O'Conall practically ran out of his own office.

Left to his own devices Chuck rummaged through the safe removing contracts by the handful and throwing them into the open fire in the fireplace. So caught up in his task was he that he barely noticed when the door was thrown open and a figure of absolute femininity swathed and veiled in black entered the office.

"Damn!" He cursed, as he turned around to face his unexpected and unwanted guest.

Blair looked around the room in wide-eyed interest, wrinkling her nose at the mess in front of her. She wasn't sure what she expected from a place of business that made it's livelihood through the unsavory business of money lending, but this place showed all the signs of corruption her mind had hinted at. It was dank, smelly, grimy and worst of all it was run by a fop. A very handsome fop, she thought as she looked down her nose at the man before her. She hadn't expected anyone involved in such a low class occupation to be so well dressed or so handsome and sinful looking. Her gaze lingered over his dark ruffled hair, the angular profile that rose above his starched cravat, the well-defined chest hidden in a bottle green waistcoat and the tight trousers that defined his well-muscled thighs. She wasn't sure, but she was positive he had to be dressed in the height of fashion. Maybe even one of those dandies the London misses she had met were always going into raptures about. Straightening her spine she reminded herself why she was here. With trembling fingers she lifted her veil, her eyes meeting his boldly, head on.

"Double Damn!" he excalimed as he realized his visitor was a woman. He was on the verge of wielding his sword at her, anything to get her to leave when she lifted her veil. He was caught like a moth to a flame as soon as he saw the brilliance of her eyes. She was exquisite, from her pouting red lips, to the budding breasts that rose above her high-waisted sprigged muslin dress. He wanted nothing more than to smother her with kisses, press her against his body and bury his hands in the curls escaping from underneath her ridiculous hat, which he swore, were flirting with him.

Sliding his sword against the wall and behind the desk chair he prowled over to her side.

"Has your lover left you high and dry," he purred. He didn't know what came over him, but he was determined that he have her. He would set her up in her own house, make her his official mistress if he had too, but she would be his before the night was over.

Blair blinked at the man like he had suddenly turned into an insect she wanted to crush beneath her shoe. "I don't think that is any of your business."

He smiled confidently as she neither affirmed nor denied the existence of a current paramour. This was going to be easier than he thought. She was holding out for the highest bid and with his wealth it wouldn't take long to reach a number they would both be satisfied with.

"What is you price?" He asked his hand already reaching out to curl a lock of hair between his thumb and forefinger. She reacted immediately, swatting his hand away like a fly.

"Is this how you run your business? Because if it is there are other moneylenders I can go to. I don't need to be molested," she huffed, suddenly nervous and feeling way out of her league. It had all seemed so easy when she dreamt it in her head, she would come and get a small loan, sign a few papers and be on her way, money in hand. She hadn't expected for one of the handsomest men she had ever seen to treat her as if she was a common whore.

A sharp pang of unease struck Chuck. This wasn't how his possible conquests normally treated him. Could she possibly not find him attractive? He quickly dismissed the notion when he saw her cheeks flush hotter and hotter the closer he came. No, she was definitely attracted to him. He had gravely miscalculated. He cleared his throat, hoping to clear the air at the same time and start afresh. He seated himself at the desk, fully prepared to assume the charade she expected.

"Forgive me. I thought you were someone else," he apologized, silk in his voice.

"I can only imagine who you thought I was," she said her checks flushing even hotter."

"What can I do for you Miss —"

She lowered her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Waldorf."

"What can I do for you," he hesitated, pleased as punch that he had discovered her name, "Miss Waldorf?" His tongue rolled over her tongue like it was fine wine.

"I need to borrow some money, of course. Why else would I be here," she asked, looking at him like he was stupid.

He grinned broadly, beautiful as well as a spitfire. He couldn't believe his luck. He loved woman, adored them in fact until they opened their mouths. He couldn't stand the fashion for simpering, dull witted females that held no opinion in their empty rattled brains other than what they thought he wanted to hear.

He rifled through the papers on the desk searching for a blank one and an ink pen to write with.

"Before I loan anyone money I find it important to ascertain how they plan to put the money to use and most importantly how they plan to pay it back."

Finally armed with what he assumed were the main accoutrements of the trade, he sat poised waiting for her to fill him in as to her need for money, hoping that there would be a way to turn this to his advantage and get her into his bed willingly.

She clasped her hands together nervously even though her face didn't betray for a second the wild thumping of her heart. "I need 2,000 pounds."

He nodded and began scraping furiously on his parchment. "And that would be for?"

"My cousin's debut into society."

He looked up startled, the puzzle pieces falling into place. He could see it now. He had been so distracted by her beauty his eyes had missed the telltale signs of her obvious class and breeding. This was no miss to be quickly bed and tossed aside, not that that was ever his plan. She was the type to be savored, the type that grew more delicious with each taste. If he wanted her she would have to be wooed and wed. Something he had never once contemplated before.

"I realize it is a lot of money, but it is the last bit I need to finance our stay in town. I have already raised the other half on my own so it isn't like you are loaning me the whole amount," she reasoned.

She looked at him tentatively, waiting for him to refuse and throw her out of his office. To her relief or possible dismay, she wasn't sure which; he only smiled at her wolfishly, like she was a select piece of meat he wished to devour.

"What are you offering as collateral?" He asked, attempting to affect disinterest. Part of him wished she was offering her obvious virginity and the other part was fervently hoping she was as pure as he guessed she was.

That was the problem she had nothing to offer. She had already pawned the last of her jewelry, but she couldn't give up. Not when she was so close. She knew things would be more expensive here. She just had not calculated how much more expensive they would be. Then there were all the expenses she had not expected like calling cards, vails for the servants and numerous multi-colored gloves and stocking, enough to match every ensemble. She had accomplished the impossible, gotten them here, rented the house, and now she just needed the funds for one small party and a few more new gowns. She was so close to achieving it all.

"I don't have any collateral, per se." The pit of her stomach sank to the floor as she saw him raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief. "I can tell you that the loan is a sure thing. You have only to look at my cousin to know she will make an excellent match. She is perfect in every way, blonde and blue-eyed and the sweetest girl you could ever meet. As soon as she is married I will be able to secure the funds to pay you back. At whatever interest rate you think is applicable," she rushed out before he could say no.

He peered at her over the top of the paper he was holding. "You are banking on your cousins catching the cap of a wealthy husband?" He asked, the tone of his voice condemning her even though he was secretly amused by her ingenuity and ambition.

"You haven't seen my cousin, Serena," she said dryly, reaching into her reticule to pull out a small miniature painted by Lily during one of her artistic phases. Handing it to him, their fingertips brushed. She almost gasped aloud at the jolt of electricity she felt from this tiniest of touches.

He almost dropped the small miniature as his hand came in contact with the softest skin he had every touched. He could only imagine what the rest of her must feel like after this small taste.

Scanning the portrait he had to admit that her cousin would have no trouble snaring a husband. She was exactly as the current fashion dictated, blonde and beautiful and most likely a simpering miss. She didn't look like she had a contrary bone in her body the way she smiled beatifically at him from her frame. He, unlike the current prevailing fashion, preferred chocolate curls, flashing eyes and a personality that never allowed him to grow bored. The one thing hated more than anything else was boredom. He had no doubts that Miss Blair Waldorf would keep him keep him from ever experiencing this emotion again.

"She certainly is beautiful," he mused. He watched in amusement as her smiled faded and her eyes lost their sparkle. "But not my type in the least." His heart almost stopped when her mouth spread into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

"She is everyone's type," Blair admonished. "Trust me. She 's perfect."

"Maybe," he said dismissively. "But I am still going to need some collateral." He eyed her up and down lasciviously, willing to settle for a kiss.

This was what she was afraid off. With shaking hands she removed her hat, pulling the pins from her hair. From her reticule she procured a small sewing scissors.

His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water when she unbound her hair, her glory. It fell over the back of her chair and shoulders in waves, calling to him. He itched to run his fingers in it, bury his face in it, watch it curtain her naked body. He almost groaned aloud until he noticed her grab her hair in her small fist and brandish the scissors recklessly like a dangerous weapon.

"Damn it, woman! What are you doing?"

"Giving you my hair as collateral," she huffed. "It is the only thing I have to offer and it is worth at least fifty pounds."

It was worth a lot more then that in the wig market and to him every strand of it was priceless. He wanted to tell her it wasn't the only thing she had to give. Show her exactly what else she could offer, but for the first time in his life he felt the disgusting urge to be a gentleman.

"Don't," he threatened.

He stood up and walked over to her, removing the scissors from her hands as if it was a loaded pistol. He closed his eyes in pain as he snipped a single, solitary curl.

"I think this will do quite nicely," he said, pocketing the curl and reluctantly returning to his desk.

She looked at him in surprise, her eyes widening in surprise at his unexpected action. "Thank you, Mr. O'Conall. Your kindness won't be forgotten."

He knew it wasn't. He was going to make sure she never forgot this kindness. He cleared his throat as he attempted to block out, temporarily, all the ways he was going to have her repay his kindness. Putting pen to paper he focused on scrawling out the math figures.

"Two thousand pounds at 10 percent interest is a total sum of twenty-four hundred pounds. I'm assuming this is payable upon the young lady's marriage?"

Blair nodded assent, pleased at the low amount of interest he was offering as she twisted her hair atop her head into a knot once more, replacing her hat.

Chuck walked over to the safe, pulling out the pound notes that had been hidden underneath the contracts. Counting them out on the desk he slid them towards her. She looked at him in disbelief, shocked that her bid had paid off. She stuffed the money along with the miniature hurriedly into her reticule afraid if given too much time to think he would change his mind.

She took a deep breath, the bands of iron she had worn around her heart falling away at this answer to her prayers. As thrilled, as she was to have accomplished her goal something seemed off about the whole operation. Granted Mr. O'Conall had been a bit on the lecherous side and the office certainly resembled a den of inequity, but wasn't it supposed to be harder than this? It felt like something was missing from the process. Surely it couldn't be this easy to get a five thousand pound loan. There had to be more involved than flashing a portrait and handing off a snippet of hair. Then it hit her.

"Don't I need to sign something?" She asked suspiciously.

He gulped, "Of course." With a flurry he quickly wrote out a simple IOU and handed her the parchment and pen, pointing out an empty space at the bottom of the document. "Just sign there."

She nodded and with a flourish signed her name, 'Miss Blair Waldorf.' Business concluded she rose, gripping her reticule as if her life depended on it.

"Do you have a safe way home," he asked. He wasn't quite sure she had thought her plan through and he wanted to be absolutely certain she made it home un-accosted.

She looked at him as if he was an idiot. "Of course, I have a hired carriage and a footman waiting for me outside. If I don't return within exactly thirty minutes he has the strictest directions to come in here and use whatever force necessary to extract me from the premises. You don't think I would be stupid enough to come here alone? Who knows what could happen."

He wanted to laugh. All her precautions had come to naught. The most dangerous thing that could have happened did. She had met the most notorious womanizer of the ton and the one man that would do anything to make her his.

He grasped her arm painfully as she turned to leave. "Promise me that you will never, ever come here again. From the moment you leave you are to forget you were ever here," he threatened for her own safety. He was terrified she would come here on her own, meet the real Mr. O'Conall.

Instead of gasping and trembling like he expected she stomped on his foot, hard.

"Fine, I'll stay away, but don't ever grab me like that again. We are business partners and you will treat me as such," she said loftily, lifting her chin defiantly. Her heart hammered in her chest at his nearness, her gaze settling briefly on his full and tempting lips before she glanced away guiltily.

He watched in amusement as she swept her way like a whirlwind out of the small office. Reaching into his pocket he searched out and found the heavenly collateral she had left with him. Lifting the silken curl to his lips, he inhaled deeply of the haunting scent of gardenias and vanilla that lingered behind. Blair Waldorf would lead him a merry dance and he would love every minute of it.

* * *

A/N: This is a repost of the original High Society with a few corrections. I apologize for deleting the original. I received some very negative reviews and instead of thinking the matter out I reacted by pulling the story. I want to thank all the wonderful people who PM'd me about how much they missed and loved the story. Most especially I want to thank Camilla, Felicia and Riley for making me feel like I wasn't a crazy drama queen.


	2. Chapter 2

The evening couldn't have gone more perfectly. Serena was a vision in a simple white tissue empire gown, satin rosettes adorning on her small puffed sleeves and the flounces in her skirt. The dress while shockingly expensive to their meager budget was one of the plainest there. While on anyone else it would have looked plain and unfinished on Serena it became a fairytale creation.

For the first time that night Blair let a small smile crack her face as she seated herself on one of the many gilt edged chairs that lined the dance floor. It had been a harrowing evening. For all their gentle up-bringing neither Blair or Serena had much experience with the haut ton. Without funds and the proper connections they had never had the opportunity to participate. While she did not expect their debut into society to be a failure since Lily still carried her title and had kept a few connections Blair had no idea how they would be received. She need not have worried, everyone remembered Lily fondly and they were thrilled to meet her daughter. Even without a fortune, suitors, maybe none willing to come up to scratch yet, swarmed her but with time she was assured someone would offer.

She watched enviously as Serena joined several other couples on the dance floor, this time with a red-haired viscount that she had learned was worth several thousand a year. While she had danced several times that night she had nowhere near the social draw that Serena had. It wasn't necessarily her lack of looks, brunettes not currently in fashion; it had more to do with her lack of money and connections. Lily may be her Aunt, but her father was only several generations removed from the trade so while not a social pariah she was definitely at a disadvantage.

Sighing, she looked down, playing with the pearl buttons that adorned the side of her kidskin gloves. So engrossed in smoothing the wrinkles that puckered slightly between buttonholes she failed to notice the handsome young man with mischievous eyes that headed her way. The crowds in the ballroom fell away, parting for the imposing figure as he cut his way through them.

"May I have this dance?" The voice was as smooth as buttered scotch.

She tilted her head staring up in amazement at the dashing figure towering over her. She knew that voice and that very attractive face.

"Mr. O'Conall. This is most inappropriate. You had best retire before they turn you out on your ear," she said sternly, frantically shooing him away like a pestering fly.

He chuckled, and held out his hand. "I'd like to see them try."

She blanched as the tinkling of the orchestra was drawn out by the hum of gossip. Everywhere she looked silk and hand painted fans were raised over peeping eyes and gentleman were avidly eyeing her with appraising eyes."

"Go away. You are causing a scene," she whispered loudly. If you ever want to earn back your investment I suggest you leave me alone. No one in polite society will receive me if I am seen consorting with your type." Her tone was harsh, but her eyes were begging him to turn and walk away.

"I doubt that," he said dryly." "If anything being seen with me with only raise you in esteem with ton. Dance with me Miss. Waldorf." It was no longer a request, but a demand. He reached out for her hand, clasping it in his large one and pulled her to a to a standing position.

She glared at him, clenching his hand as tightly as she could, their hoping to inflict pain. Keenly aware of all the eyes following their movement across the room she refrained from kicking him, even though her foot ached to do so. Blair blushed, spots of color blossoming across her cheekbones as the heat between their joined hands, even while gloved, sparked hot and electrical.

"You are ruining my reputation," she hissed in his ear as he swept her into a waltz. She nearly swooned as his arms tightened around her, and his thumb smoothed a line just above the back of her dress.

"Actually, I'm making it." He smiled at her teasingly, enjoying every moment of her annoyance. She was even more perfect than he remembered. He had spent the last week in fear that upon their meeting again Miss Blair Waldorf would be nothing more than a pale imitation of the woman he had met that day at the moneylenders. To say that he was pleased was a massive understatement, he was more than pleased he was jubilant! He smirked as he saw her color heighten further and her eyes flutter as his thumb continued to trail a slight path across her back. Her ivory skin gleamed in the candlelight tantalizing him and all he could think about was ripping his glove so he could feel the satin beneath his fingers.

Blair gazed up at him wonderingly through the curtain of her long eyelashes. The man had to be mad. Here he was at Lord Beauvallant's ball acting as if he was born and bred in polite society. Add that to her suspicion that he was drastically undercharging her on her loan and all she could think was that the man belonged in an asylum.

"You are insane," she said through clenched teeth.

"No doubt you're right." He laughed out loud, causing another stir among their curious onlookers. His Grace, Charles Bass, Duke of Somerest was not known for his laughter or good humor, dancing and most certainly not for consorting with young misses just out of the schoolroom. What he was known for was his general ennui society decorum, cutting dry wit and libertine ways with buxom widows and bored wives.

"I hope you're happy," she huffed.

"Ecstatic." He smiled down at her tenderly.

"I hope you can afford to lose twenty four hundred pounds since you have thoroughly ruined my reputation thus ensuring I will never get Serena married off." She frowned at him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm sure I will somehow manage," he said smoothly, his eyes traveling up and down her slim figure catching every mouth-watering detail. "I think you will quite nicely jeopardize your reputation all on your own without my help. You do realize that white is de-rigueur for young ladies in their first season?"

"Yes, well…" She cast her eyes down at her dress, a look of shame briefly racing across her face, only to be replaced seconds later with one of stubborn defiance. "It is a ridiculous rule and besides it is mostly white." It was true, the gauze robe with small puffed sleeves worn over the dress was white; it was the underskirt in emerald green that bucked with tradition. Under the candlelight the green underskirt shining through the transparent white created a brilliant effect not unlike the waves of the sea rising through foam. With Blair's inate fashion sense and Serena's clever needle it was a dress of supreme ingenuity, even though it was made out of necessity. There wasn't enough money for all the gowns a season called, especially with three ladies to dress, so Blair had improvised by combining and refitting two of her mother's dresses. The gowns had came from a time when money hadn't been an issue for her parents and since they had lovingly been stored away the quality was just as fine as Serena's couture dress from Bond Street.

He leaned confidently to whisper in her ear, his hot breath tickling the curls that escaped from her coiffure. "Whatever shall we do with you Miss Waldorf?"

She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to close her eyes and lean even closer into his embrace. There was something about this crazed man that unsettled her, made her stomach feel tight and fluttery all at the same time. Before she had time to analyze more deeply these strange and new feeling the dance was ended. The whispers and looks only grew as her escort continued to hold unto to her arm, propelling her way off the dance floor and in the direction of her Aunt Lilly. With each step her fell like a lead weight lower and lover to the floor. He was going to tattle on her misdeeds, she just knew it, right in front of the entire ton.

"Lady van der Woodsen, how charming to see you again. It's been years. You look as lovely as I remember," he said, his voice dripping with charm.

Blair's looked from her aunt to the crazed Mr. O'Conall, he eyes widening in surprise at he look of pleasure on Lily's face."

"Charles," she exclaimed in delight. "I haven't seen you since you were in short pants. How are you?"

"Never better," he said covertly sneaking a side look at Blair his eyes twinkling in merriment.

"I was so sorry to hear about your father." Lily's expression clouded over as she reached over to gently pat his arm.

Chuck awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it was a bit unexpected."

"Such a terrible accident." Lily nodded sympathetically. "I know you and your father had your difficulties, but he loved you very much. You were always his favorite topic of conversation."

Blair didn't think she could stand one more moment of this idle chit chat. If she didn't get answers about how her aunt knew Mr. O'Conall in the next five minutes she was going to explode. Biting her tongue, she waited impatiently for a break in the conversation to interject a question. While she knew that to do so was considered the height of impropriety, but she was willing to risk it since the man in question was one of such little consequence.

A shadow crossed his face, his jaw tightening, until he caught of glimpse of Blair. He wanted to laugh out loud as he watched her shift impatiently from one foot to the other. Finally tiring of their little game and wanting to see how she would react once she knew the truth he gave her the opening she craved.

"If you wouldn't mind, I don't believe I have been properly introduced to the young lady."

"Of course," Lily giggled, looking extremely pleased with this turn of events. "May I present my niece, Miss Blair Waldorf. Blair this is his Grace, Charles Bass, Duke of Somerest."

Blair was barely able to contain her gasp of astonishment. Her mind whirled as she attempted to unravel this very unexpected turn of events. This had to be a nightmare. She almost pinched herself to see if she would wake up, but quickly disregarded the thought when she realized how silly she would look. It just couldn't be possible could it? A Duke masquerading as a moneylender? How could everyone not know? How could he be accepted by society when good portions of them were most likely his clients? It had to be blackmail she finally decided. She knew one thing like a bad romance from Aunt Lily's stash he was most certainly a villain, a dastardly duke.

Giving him her most cold look, the one she reserved especially for their tradesmen and bill collectors, she gave him the only the most perfunctory of curtseys, just short of an insult.

She wasn't sure what she expected when she peeped up at him, but it certainly wasn't a smirk of absolute delight at her antics. Almost immediately she regretted her impulsive action as she saw the look of dismay on Aunt Lily's face and heard the gasp of shock that littered the ballroom. She wanted to scream, her temper had gotten the best of her and now she had thrown away everything she had worked hard for.

The ton held their breath expectantly as they waited for the duke to turn his back on the impetuous upstart that had dared to treat on of their own with such contempt. The ladies smiled viciously, all but sharpening their teeth as they prepared to cut out socially the woman that had so easily caught the attention of the most richest and most important bachelor. The gentleman contemplated her figure and assets attempting to calculate just how much it would take to make her a fallen woman. It would be quite a considerable sum now, since she had managed to captivate the Duke.

"Blair," Lily admonished. While Blair had always been a managing miss with a stubborn attitude, never before had she gone this far.

"It's all right, Lady van der Woodsen," Chuck grinned at Blair, his smile widening further as she tossed her head in his direction defiantly. "With your permission may I escort Miss Waldorf out on the balcony for some fresh air and refreshments?"

Lily looked at the young Duke in puzzlement. Even out of society for years she followed the gossip and she knew this was not normal behavior for Charles Bass at all. She had expected him to deliver a scathing set down thereby ensuring Blair's social destruction. To offer a tour on the balcony and refreshments would communicate his approval of her, making her little faux pas of no consequence. It also signaled his interest and partiality something he had never been know to do with any other lady that he wasn't currently visiting after hours.

"Of course," she said faintly giving Blair a pleading look.

With a graceful flourish, Chuck held out his arm. Rolling her eyes, Blair acceded, all but rolling her eyes. Lightly placing her fingertips on the crook of his arm she allowed him to lead her in the direction of the slight repast laid out on the balcony.

It didn't take long before the were accosted by a lady with far to much paint and a bodice so tight her bosoms were practically popping out of them.

"Your Grace, I missed you at Lady Weatherton's dinner last night. I waited in the library for you on our special settee," she said huskily, her meaning clear as to what exactly happened on their special settee.

Chuck looked down his nose at her, blinking his eyes as if he saw right through her. Lady Sparks, while proving an excellent diversion, was not someone he wanted to continue a dalliance with. Especially now that he had met Blair.

"I can't imagine that any piece of furniture would appreciate being considered special for being the scene of a momentary distraction," he said his voice exuding boredom.

A small crowd had gathered discretely around them as Lady Hamilton refused to take the hint.

She refused to take offense, not wishing to give up on the chance of sleeping her way into a dukedom.

"Perhaps we could christen a new piece of furniture tonight?" She fluttered her eyes suggestively.

"I think not Countess, if you will excuse me," he said, his voice thinly veiling a threat.

Blair looked around the gathering crowd in dismay. Here they were causing another scene. At least this time she could hardly be at fault, since it was his own indiscretions that had caused this situation.

The countess's eyes raked Blair, if she couldn't get anywhere with Chuck she could at least try with the nobody he had erratically decided to suddenly favor. "Your Grace, where on earth did you manage to find this er, woman. Young lady, whatever are you wearing? Something found on the docks?

Muffled whispers and giggles erupted from the ever-nearing crowd. It was rude, it was insulting and those listening knew quite well that Lady Sparks had declared herself publicly uninterested and unimpressed in Chuck's newest dalliance. Even worse, she had used Blair's taste in dress to insinuate that she was a fallen woman

To the causal outsider Chuck looked at ease, bored at the proceedings, but those who were in his inner circle knew by the rigid set of his shoulders that he was about to unleash social annihilation on Lady Sparks.

Blair did not expect or wait for the Duke to protect her; she could protect herself from over painted trollops with a fetish for furniture.

"Surely Madam, you do recognize a French creation when you see one," Blair lied. She circled around her like a shark, appraising her from head to toe. "Then again, it looks like you are not the least familiar with haute couture, " she said sarcastically.

With those few words she had become a player in the game, cementing her role as someone not to be easily trifled.

The countess came closer to Blair, her cheeks flushed and her eyes full of hatred. " A little friendly warning, you will never get to be a Duchess. He wants one thing and only one thing and once he gets it he will chew you up and spit you out. "

Blair laughed, a sound heavy with condescension. "Good thing I'm not the least interested in His Grace."

Chuck stiffened even further, as he gave the countess a black look. This was not part of his plan. Tonight was supposed to be furthering his acquaintance with the fascinating Miss Waldorf, proving to them both that the little minx was as perfect for him as he was for her. There was supposed to be wooing and instead he was being confronted by a misalliance he was now cursing and regretting with every breath he took. To further add insult to injury the tart had done the unforgiveable, gotten Miss Waldorf to declare formally that she did not consider him a potential suitor.

Placing his other hand firmly on top of Blair's hand, which still rested on his arm, he turned his back on Lady Sparks. Titters and gasps filled the room as the Duke gave the countess a direct cut. By his actions he had ruined her socially. She would no longer be welcome in any of the top ten percent, let alone those of the lesser nobility.

Blair allowed herself to be led away from the disastrous scene. With one last lingering glance she studied the Countess, wondering exactly what it was that he saw in her. Comparing their different choices in gowns, she quickly concluded it wasn't Lady Sparks' sparkling personality.

Already forgotten by the upper echelon of society as she stalked from the party, Lady Georgina Sparks vowed her revenge.

Having procured Miss Waldorf a lemonade and himself a glass of champagne, Chuck searched out and found a private corner for them to converse. A place shaded a bit from the prying eyes of the curious horde.

Blair took a sip for her lemonade, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the weak concoction. She would have much preferred the champagne, but as a debutante it was forbidden to imbibe, at least publicly. Having broken enough rules and caused enough scandal for the evening she hadn't protested when handed the appalling beverage.

"I don't suppose there isn't some furniture you would rather be visiting?" She said tartly, before realizing he might think that she was insinuating that she wished to visit some furniture with him.

His eyes brimmed with passion, "Are you offering?"

"Of course not!" She shot him a stern glance. "I don't visit furniture with anyone who makes a living of the misfortune of others."

He quirked a eyebrow at her mischievously. "I hate to tarnish the adoring image you have of me, but I am not your nefarious Mr. O'Conall. "

"No you are even worse," she retorted. "Mr. O'Conall is merely the identity you hide behind when you are doing your dirty work."

"I hate to disabuse you of your very entertaining notion, but I do not and have not ever answered to the name to of Mr. O'Conall."

"Then what were you doing in what I can only assume was his place of business?" She asked accusingly.

"Actually, I was paying off a friend's debt."

"But you pretended to be Mr. Conall," she sputtered.

"I never affirmed or denied that was who I was, you just assumed," he pointed out.

"But why?"

He leered at her, his eyes dark and intense.

It was all becoming quite clear. The man wasn't mad; he was a libertine and a rake. His overtures that day in the moneylender office suddenly made sense. He was attempting to buy her. No doubt, to be used and abused like Lady Sparks, she decided. Well she could not be bought, not for any sum.

"I will not be your mistress." With a snap of her wrist, she flipped open her Chinese fan that hung from a silk cord around her wrist. Loose tendrils of curls fluttered around her face in a breeze from the storm she created from the fluttering of her fan.

"I didn't ask," he replied sarcastically, trying to hide how much he was enjoying her discomfort.

"Why not?" She asked offended, her cheeks burning. She couldn't help the slightest twinge of disappointment and anger that crept into her heart. She knew she wasn't as pretty as Serena and she certainly wasn't as well mannered, but she knew unattractive and given the ladies present she was at least in the upper 30 percent looks wise. So what was wrong with her?

Chuck knew the answer to that, but he didn't want to scare her away. He didn't want her to let him court her only out of obligation and the size of his bank account. He wanted her to want him for himself, to see that they were a perfect match. Her outspokenness and managing attitude was the perfect antidote to a life spent in boredom and debauchery. The fact that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen clinched the deal.

"Because I am not a debaucher of helpless young ladies. I much prefer a willing partner." He shuddered in distaste at the thought. "The next lady I bring to my bed will be the new Duchess."

Her face fell, some foreign and unknown feeling weighing her down. "I see. I offer my condolences to your future bride," she said acidly.

"I'm sure she will need them," he said smiling at her tenderly and confusing her even more.

It suddenly struck her, the very inappropriateness of his loaning her such a huge sum, the fact that he was a Duke and not a moneylender. "I will have your money to you by next Monday," she said stiffly.

"Miss Serena van der Woodsen's wedding is what we agreed on." His voice warned against any arguing.

"I can't possibly allow that," she responded stubbornly.

His eyebrows shot up in amazement, Chuck was in uncharted territory. Always used to getting his way he had made a mistake in assuming she would be like all the other women he had ever met, perfectly content to take what he offered without hesitation. This wasn't what he was wanted or expected. He had never planned on her returning the money, had even secretly hoped there would be no reason too. He would never miss it considering his weekly household bills exceeded the paltry sum he had given her.

"We signed a contract," he reminded her, hoping that would be the end of it.

"Under false pretenses," she admonished.

"Never the less, it stands. He shrugged matter-of- factly.

She pressed her lips together in anger. "I will not let you hold my purse strings, be responsible for the clothes on my back."

His eyes roved over her figure, heating her skin with his gaze. Her demure dress felt suddenly risqué, like it had been replaced by the one Lady Spark's was wearing.

"What it I like being responsible for the clothes on your back?"

She raised her chin with a cool stare in his direction. "You're disgusting."

"I know." He affirmed, flashing an irresistibly devastating grin. "Let me take you driving tomorrow?"

"I think not." She said decisively. "You have interfered in my life enough. "

"I can give you the gossip on everyone, a leg up on the competition so to speak."

Blair hesitated, snapping her fan shut as she weighed her love of gossip against time spent in the company of a gentleman that made her feel hot and cold all at the same time. It was her love of competition and scheming that won out. She was going to need all the ammunition she needed if she was going to stay ahead of the game.

"Fine," she sighed with resignation, like she was doing him a great favor.

"I'll pick you up at four." He didn't wait for an answer as he grasped her dainty fingertips with his hand and laid them on top of his arm. Leading her back to her Aunt Lily, he laid his hand over hers over possessively for a minute before returning it reluctantly to his side. Given a choice he would have spent the entire evening on the balcony in her company, but he knew that to do so would cause even more talk. As things stood now he had given the haut ton enough gossip for days, he didn't want to overdo it to such an extent he forever besmirched Miss Waldorf's reputation. Knowing her propensity for scandal he would no doubt be called on several times in the next few months to right her reputation if he ever wanted to see her cousin married. Which he most certainly did if he ever hoped to have a chance of winning the fiery brunettes heart.

Blair smiled politely as the crowds parted before them and Charles Bass Duke of Somerest, delivered her safely back to her aunt. She was pleased to note that Serena was at Aunt Lily's side accompanied by an unknown blonde gentleman who was staring at her in rapt attention.

"Blair, I want you to meet Mr. Archibald." Serena said excitedly, clasping her hands together. "Mr. Archibald, my dearest friend and cousin Miss Waldorf.

"Chuck, you're not at the card tables." Nate's eyebrows shot up in amazement at the absurd sight of Chuck escorting a young unmarried female instead of imbibing his usual scotch, buried in a game of faro.

"How very observant of you, Nathaniel," Chuck said dryly, looking at the young couple with interest. If Nate was interested in Miss van der Woodesen, this was definitely something he could turn to his advantage with Miss Waldorf.

"You two know each other?" Serena sweetly questioned.

"Know each other? Chuck and I have been good friends since our first year at school when he stopped the school bully from beating me to a pulp."

"No doubt because it in some way benefited him," Blair interjected.

"Not so, not so at all, Miss Waldorf," Nate said, rushing in to defend his friend. "Why just last week, he bailed me out of the worst set of circumstances. I'd be in dire straights without him, head barely above water. The Captain—"

Chuck didn't allow him to finish. "Join me Nate, there is a glass of scotch calling my name," he said smoothly, betraying no expression."

"Of, curse" Nate said with an apologetic look at the ladies. "It was nice to meet you Miss Waldorf."

"Likewise," Blair replied, studying Chuck suspiciously. The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. It was just a week ago since she had met him at a place where only the desperate congregated, the same week that Nate had been bailed out.

With short bows and curtseys, all parties observed the formal proprieties as the gentleman departed for their scotch.

Within seconds of his Grace's departure, ladies desperate to make her acquaintance, seeing her as way to facilitate an introduction to the Duke and gentleman eager to explore what had caught his attention in the first place, swarmed Blair on all sides.

Her success as the season's most fascinating debutant was assured.

Early sunlight fingered its way through the mottled glass windows casting prisms of light on the walls of Blair's bedroom. The girls having been assisted out of their dresses, their beauty rituals completed were partaking in their normal evening chat before retiring. Serena lounged by the fireplace, her toes peeping out of her linen nightdress as Blair perched cross-legged on her four-poster bed.

"I think you might have made a conquest in the Duke of Somerest," Serena teased having noticed that every time his name was mentioned, which it had been by Lily numerous times during her lecture to Blair about manners and propriety, that she got a far away look in her eyes.

Blair busied herself with pulling back the bed covers, studiously avoiding her cousin's eye. "Don't be ridiculous," she muttered.

"It was all anyone could talk about. Apparently you have managed to do the unthinkable by engaging the Duke's attention for more then 30 seconds. "

"It must not take much since all I did was insult him," for a split second a look of almost shame crossed Blair's face before disappearing beneath a façade of nonchalance.

Serena twirled a strand of hair between thumb and forefinger as she searched for the best way to expand on this without Blair freezing her. "Did he say something unseemly? He is known to be rude and abrasive. According the gossip he normally doesn't go near the ladies unless they are…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes widened in shock as she further pondered the matter. "Did he hurt you? Compromise you in some way?"

"Of course not," Blair retorted indignantly. "He behaved like a perfect gentleman." To her astonishment she realized he had. While he had attempted to make unwarranted advances that day in Mr. O'Conall's offices he had backed down almost immediately when rebuffed. During the ball even while behaving quite deplorably by ordering her around and forcing his company on her he had never once gone beyond some mild flirting. Her heart hammered in her ears as she remember the way he had stroked her back during their waltz, that could be said to border on the boundary of inappropriate, but she hadn't protested. He seemed to be playing with her trying to get under her skin. Well, she wouldn't let him. She would show him just how indifferent she was to him. With that thought her mind slid shut like a steel trap on that particular memory.

"If that is the case, he must surely be smitten." Serena face spread into a wide grin as dreams of romance and weddings floated through her mind. "According to the gossips you are the first young lady he has ever asked to dance. "

"Really?" Blair as much as she tried couldn't help the ripple of excitement that poked through her voice.

Serena nodded solemnly, "Really."

"That is marvelous news, he said he would make my reputation and if he truly has brought me into fashion it can only help our cause. I can use his attention to my advantage and send the curious to you. The more suitors you have the better your chance of finding the perfect match," she said with excitement.

"Have you ever considered that they might prefer you? That maybe you will make a lovematch?"

Blair hadn't. Her whole life she had felt blinded by Serena's beauty and kindness. For her the tall blonde had always resembled the princess in a fairytale and while she had never seen herself as the ugly-step sister, she had never thought of herself as princess material. Especially, since her tongue always seemed perpetually coated in acid and her mood stubborn. Serena never had an unkind word for anybody while Blair always had several choice ones.

"No. I shall never marry for love. I don't think I could ever fall in love after seeing how my parent's so-called loving marriage deconstructed. For me it is much better to treat a marriage as a business deal. I will provide the heir and they will provide the money. " She said, her voice carrying a steely edge.

"Not every marriage is like that. My mama and papa were very loving to each other up until the day he died. You have seen how my mama still grieves for him still," Serena let out a long audible sigh.

"If love means burying yourself in artistic pursuits to cope with their loss, I think I am better sharing a cold marriage be with someone who whose looks won't offend me," Blair said archly.

"You can't mean that?" Serena insisted, looking like a wounded puppy dog.

A shadow of annoyance slid across Blair's face. Giving her a cold look, she effectively communicated this part of the conversation was over.

"Tell me about Mr. Archibald?" Blair asked tiredly, beginning to massage her aching feet. It had been a long night and after her encounter with Charles Bass she had danced every dance.

Serena colored, roses appearing on her cheeks. "He is so kind and sweet. He has this manner about him that put one completely at ease," she gushed.

Blair mad a non-committal noise. She was hesitant to push the match. She needed to find out more about this possible suitor for Serena's hand. If he was in the habit of visiting moneylenders and being bailed out by his best friend he wasn't the type of husband she wanted for Serena at all. While she needed a rich husband, she also needed to be loved and cherished by a man who would put her needs and comfort first.

"How are we set for money," Serena asked, worry in her voice.

At that moment Blair remembered what had been nibbling away at her consciousness all night. Thankfully, Serena was too tired to notice the shiver of panic that swept through her as she remember her vow to pay back her loan to the Duke by Monday. She had no idea how she was going to manage to come up with the money. There was nothing to pawn and having realized that her moneylender was nothing but a bored Duke toying who entertained himself by toying with young ladies she was reluctant to try that avenue again. She needed a plan and sitting her chatting with Serena was not going to solve her problem.

"Don't worry there is plenty in the bank." She was proud when her voice didn't quaver once.

"Good. I wore out my dancing slippers tonight so I am going to need another pair. Is it alright if I charge another pair?"

"Of course, go right ahead. We can't have you ruining your feet by dancing in worn out shoes, " she replied.

Blair needed time to think, so she faked a yawn, hoping Serena would get the message.

"Your tired. You should have said something a while ago. Here I am prattling your ear off when you are practically falling asleep." Serena rose to leave, pausing at the door. "Good night, Blair. Try not to dream about your rakish Duke, " she joked, scurrying out the door as Blair threw a pillow at her.

The door shutting behind her Blair scooted out of bed, pulling on her bed jacket. Face shining with determination she seated herself at her dressing table, pulling out ink and paper she proceeded to make a list of all the ways to pay back twenty-two hundred pounds within six days.


	3. Chapter 3

The overpowering scent of hothouse flowers was the first thing Blair smelled when she entered the drawing room. Every surface was littered with brightly colored floral arrangements and bouquets.

"B, isn't it grand?" Serena asked excitedly.

Astonished at the display, Blair could only nod. While it was customary for a gentleman to send flowers to a favored young lady the day after a soiree, she had never expected a display like this.

Overcome with pride, she beamed at Serena. "We did it. You are a success."

Serena giggled and clasped Blair's hands in hers. Like a pinwheel she twirled her around until they were both dizzy. "You silly pea-goose. Most of these are for you," she huffed, nearly out of breath."

Blair's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock. "What?"

"The flowers," Serena stated patiently, her eyes twinkling, "Almost all of them are for you."

"That can't be," Blair said, shaking her head in bemusement.

"Trust me, they are. While you were upstairs sleeping, I was down here looking at your cards. Did you know that several of your admirers fancy themselves a poet? You have verses written about everything from your dainty Grecian feet to the perfection that is the arch of your eyebrow."

Blair rolled her eyes. "That is ridiculous…wait, what about my eyebrows?" She asked, her curiosity winning out over her disdain.

Serena walked over to a bouquet of what appeared to be hand picked wildflowers and plucked the note that was attached with a green ribbon.

"Your eyebrow's soar like wild eagles, hunting for my heart. Your eyebrows hunger like two hairy caterpillars for my —."

Blair interrupted her, ripping the card out of Serena's hand, "I think that is enough of that." Serena's shoulders shook with laughter as Blair threw the paper unto the fire, in the fireplace, the ode to her eyebrows disappearing in a fiery blaze.

"There are others," Serena hinted mischievously. "Would you like to read about any other body parts today?"

"No. I don't think I could bear it," she said with a shudder. She swept the room with her eyes, searching for a rhyme or reason to the organization. "Which ones are mine?"

Serena shrugged, "They are all kind of mixed together. "

"We should probably sort them then, if we are going to send thank you letters," Blair said, her mind already calculating the easiest and quickest ways to dismiss this chore from her to do list. "I think we should put yours to the right and mine to the left."

"Sounds like a plan," Serena said, grinning. "You do realize that your pile is going to take up half the room? "

Blair just shook her head as she took a turn around the room, stepping every few feet to smell a bloom or finger a soft bud. She smiled in genuine pleasure as she stopped before a cut glass crystal vase bursting with hydrangeas. It was by far the largest and most ostentatious bouquet in the room and it's magnificence put the other flowers to shame.

Excitedly Blair plucked the card from the vase as Serena looked on with a knowing smile. To her surprise, the card was signed, 'Looking forward to our drive, Lord Bass'.

"I didn't know you were going driving with Lord Bass today," Serena said slyly. "You must have really made an impression if he can't go twenty four hours without seeing you."

Color bloomed in Blair's cheeks, matching the color of several of the roses in the room, "It is nothing more than an informative outing."

"Is that what they're calling an intimate drive for two now?" Serena asked, laughter in her voice.

"There is nothing intimate about it," Blair said, giving her friend a sharp look. "It just so happens that his Lordship knows everyone worth knowing in society and I can't afford to turn away access to that kind of information."

"I suppose." Serena cocked her head at Blair, smiling innocently. "Are you sure this has nothing to do with the Lord Charles's handsome good looks or the way he looks at you like a succulent strawberry he wants to savor?"

"Absolutely not. I am only doing this for you. This way I can find out who is the most perfect suitor for your hand," Blair affirmed, carefully avoiding Serena's eye by burying her nose in the hydrangeas.

Serena dropped the subject, knowing better than anyone that Blair couldn't be pushed. If Blair favored Lord Bass in the least, she needed to discover that on her own.

The girls busied themselves, dividing and sorting the flowers until both sides of the room were full. Blair turned to the last bouquet, an arrangement of pristine white tulips, their edges tipped delicately in pink. Digging through the stems her fingers searched for a card or note and came up empty.

"I think one of us has a secret admirer. This one is without a card and it is a pity since it is so very lovely."

In a rush of air the tulips were snatched from her hands. Blair blinked in astonishment, glancing between her now empty hands and the tulips being grasped snugly by Serena.

"Those are mine. I already took the card out," the blonde said, blushing a bright shade of red.

"I can see that," Blair said dryly.

"Sorry," Serena said, looking at her friend apologetically. "It is just that they are my favorite."

"Which gentleman are they from," Blair asked neutrally, quite sure she already knew. She had watched Serena with an eagle eye all night and while her cousin had been everything that was sweet and polite, there had been one gentleman she seemed to favor above all else.

Serena blushed even more, her cheeks now as bright as apples. "Lord Archibald," she murmured shyly.

Blair observed her with a keen eye. She had never seen Serena like this before about any beau, but then again there had never been any before that were even worth considering. Blair needed to find out everything she could about Lord Archibald and she needed to do it now before Serena's feelings were too deeply involved.

"He seems like a nice young man," she said cautiously. "Even though his taste in friends leaves something to be desired."

"You sound just like a mother hen right now." Serena chuckled and set the flowers down, but not before pulling a single tulip out of the bouquet. Sniffing it delicately, she twirled it between thumb and forefinger.

"Maybe, but it is just because I care about you. We don't know anything about this Lord Archibald and I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know and I love you for it." Serena said, smiling happily as she tucked the tulip frivolously behind Blair's ear. "Good thing you are going for a drive with Lord Bass today. You can find out all about his friend. I am sure he knows everything there is to know about his him."

"That is what I am afraid of. If he is any good friend at all, he will purposefully say only the most positive things about Lord Archibald. It will be a complete waste of time," Blair whined.

"I guess you will just have to seduce it out of him then." Serena tried and failed to suppress a giggle. She was not in the least sympathetic to her friend's plight.

Blair glared at Serena even as her mouth quirked in amusement. The idea of her seducing the Duke, while he drove his phaeton in Hyde Park, under the eyes of half of London was laughable. Everybody who was anybody would be out driving today in the park and she would need to be on her best behavior. Last night she had let Lord Bass get under her skin and she wouldn't let that happen again. She would be as cool and cold as ice; a perfect lady in every thought, word and action. Her temper having gotten the better of her the night before she wasn't going to risk letting it happen again. She couldn't risk Serena's future or her own.

"Maybe you should come with, help me with my seduction?" Blair asked smirking.

"I would, but I have plans of my own." Serena looked as pleased as a cat that had ate the cream.

"With whom?" Bair's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Oh, did I forget to mention?" Serena batted her eyes at Blair. "Lord Archibald is taking me driving in the park today."

Serena laughed uproariously as Blair grabbed a handful of flowers from the nearest basket and began pelting her with them. Within seconds the room was a rainstorm of petals, stems and shouts of laughter.

When Lady van der Woodsen finally wandered down the stairs and into the drawing room, it was to find only two floral arrangements still standing; one of tulips and the other hydrangeas.

* * *

It was promptly at the fashionable hour of four o'clock that Lord Bass showed up at the Van der Woodsen house. Blair met him at the door dressed in white with a cherry red pelisse, her bonnet adorned with a spray of roses that waved impishly at him.

"Miss Waldorf," Chuck smirked as he handed her up into his phaeton. His eyes, thirsty for her appearance, drank her in like a parched man before water.

"Your Grace," she responded stiffly, glaring at him as his gaze lingered a little too long over her figure. Seating herself primly, she spread the folds of her long skirt over the leather-padded seat and laid her parasol on the floor next to her feet.

Within seconds Chuck was at her side and with a click of his whip and a whistle, they were on their way. Blair snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye. As usual he was dressed in the first stare of fashion. His cravat was snow white against the dark sapphire blue of his waistcoat and his Hessian boots had obviously, by their dark hue, been darkened with champagne. Having admired his clothes, Blair now turned to his horse. Having spent some time in the country, she knew excellent horseflesh when she saw it and Lord Bass's was of the finest quality. She even had to admit begrudgingly that he was an exceptional whip.

For the first time she wished Serena's brother, Eric, was in London with them. As a horse lover who was quite an excellent driver himself, he would have loved the opportunity to see Lord Bass's horses and driving in action. It always pained her that the first thing they had been forced to sell were his horses and his racing curricle. He had never protested but she had known how much it meant to him to lose them. If she ever managed to marry wealth, it was one of the gifts that would be on top of her list.

"How did you enjoy your first ball?" Lord Bass asked, surprised at Miss Waldorf's uncustomary silence.

"It was very nice," she said affecting an air of sweetness. "I had such a lovely time. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming."

He gave her a sideways glance.

"Isn't the weather just lovely?"

"Perfect." His voice was full of disbelief.

"I have to thank you for asking me to take a drive with you. I am so honored to be spending time with, your Grace," she simpered, giving him a pained smile.

"Miss Waldorf, don't."

The smile fell from her lips.

"Don't what, your Grace?" She asked sharply.

"Don't pretend to be something you're not. You are an original, Miss Waldorf. Use it to your advantage," Lord Bass advised sternly.

She looked at him in annoyance. "Fine. The ball was crowded, the people were rude and the refreshments were horrible. It was nothing like I expected. Satisfied, Your Grace?"

He laughed out loud, the sound rich and throaty. "That is the Miss Waldorf I know."

"I suppose I shouldn't complain. I am practically living a fairy tale. Country girl meets money lender and gets to go to the ball," she said sarcastically.

He nodded somberly, even though his eyes danced. "It is quite a fairy tale. But you left out a few important elements. Country girl charms a duke and becomes the belle of the ball."

"Now if she could just find a prince for her cousin," Blair sighed.

"Has the country girl ever given any thought to her own prince?" he asked in a light tone that belied his seriousness.

"No," She said firmly. "I stopped believing in princes and fairytales long ago. My happily ever after consists of an arranged marriage with a rich man who is willing to support my family. Thanks to your patronage last night I seem to have been brought into fashion, judging by all the dances last night and the bouquets of flowers this morning."

"So you will be the sacrificial lamb instead of Lady Serena van der Woodsen?" Chuck frowned, his countenance darkening. This was an unexpected turn he hadn't calculated when he decided to bring Miss Waldorf into favor. He was beginning to regret that he hadn't kept her a wallflower and warned all the other gentleman away from dancing with Miss Waldorf.

"If need be. The van der Woodsen's have been my only family for years. Without a rich marriage, we have no future. We will remain buried in the country counting every pence three times and that is not the life I want for Serena, her brother or myself."

"You would be content to sell yourself to the highest bidder to save the van der Woodsen's from penury, Miss Waldorf?" he asked angrily.

"Yes, better me than Serena. She needs someone who will love her and put her first. I am more practical. I understand how the world works. I don't need love; I just need to know that those I love are being taken care of. If I can find a gentleman who is willing to agree to my terms, I would marry him tomorrow."

"Even if you don't love him?" he asked, his face expressionless. This was something he couldn't understand. Why marry if not for love? There were plenty of women perfectly willing to satisfy any man's needs outside the bond of marriage. If he was going to have to tolerate having a female interfering in his affairs, he damn well expected love to be involved.

"Especially if I don't love him." Blair's voice had a steely edge that he hadn't heard before.

Lord Bass halted the phaeton and dark expressionless eyes caught hers. "Then, would you marry me, Miss Waldorf?" he asked as casually as possible.

Her heart fluttered as she imagined seeing his handsome face over the breakfast table in the morning and just as fast that shuttered to a stop.

"No," she said cuttingly.

"That is why I don't believe you for a second," a slow smirk spreading across his lips as he flicked the reins to tell the horses to proceed. "You are not nearly as cold and calculating as you think you are. If you truly had meant what you said, then you would have said yes and married me tomorrow. You may not admit it but you are just as much a romantic as your cousin. You might marry for money, but it will be for love as well," he said with a knowing smile.

"It has nothing to do with love." She lifted her chin and glared at him as if he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "Maybe I just don't wish to be married to a rake."

"Even a rake can be reformed by love of the right woman," he said lightly, pretending to busy himself with the reins.

"Don't be ridiculous, Your Grace. Once a womanizer, always a womanizer. Besides, I certainly don't believe in love so there will be no rake reforming in my future," she said haughtily, doing her best to convince herself.

"We'll see." He shot her a disarming smile, placating her as if she was a child. Aware that the conversation was getting too dangerously close to emotions she was not ready to face, he switched tactics.

"Did you like the hydrangeas?"

"Oh, were those from you, Your Grace?" she asked carelessly, feigning indifference.

"Yes, they were," he said, looking at her with laughter in his eyes.

"I didn't realize since there were so many delivered this morning. Did you know I even received poems along with flowers? There was even one written to my eyebrows."

"Well, they are particularly magnificent," he teased. "Although, I can think of better body parts to write poems about." He leered at her suggestively.

Her spine stiffened as she thought of all the ladies and their parts that he no doubt wanted to not only explore with words. "I'm sure you can," she said rolling her eyes.

"With your sudden popularity, I am surprised you still decided to go driving with me." There was a trace of mirth in his voice.

"Well, it certainly can't hurt my reputation. I have since learned that you are a leader of fashion so if I want to stay popular it is necessary to be seen with you " Blair looked down, fussing with the folds of her skirt, refusing to face the fact that she might just enjoy being in his company.

"I'm glad to be of service," he said sardonically.

"Well, you should be. Thanks to your attentions, I should be able to pay of your loan much sooner than expected with a marriage proposal." She didn't bother to add that this was something she was already working on with or without a proposal. She had no desire to be beholden to someone that made her heart speed up every time she looked at him. She couldn't afford such a weakness if she was going to make her brilliant match.

"The loan can wait," Lord Bass said, exasperated. In his mind, it could wait until their wedding night; he would have her repay it in kisses and caresses.

It only took a second to realize that Miss Waldorf was unaccountably quiet. Lord Bass, even on such a short acquaintance, knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You will not under any circumstances try and repay this loan," he demanded, a shadow of annoyance crossing his face.

Ignoring Lord Bass she busied herself with her parasol, playing with the ivory handle.

"That means no visits to money lenders, no crazy schemes and most certainly no quickie marriages to Gretna Green." He shot her a penetrating look.

"I will do as I please. You are not my father or even my fiancé, Your Grace. You have no control over me and I will pay back this loan by Monday if it is the last thing I do," she hissed.

Lord Bass, normally a most cold and shrewd man, felt anger like never before. Pulling on the reins, he directed the horses over to a side street. Blair sat pale faced, her eyes full of fury.

When finally they were alone, away from the prying eyes of the crowd, Lord Bass turned to face her. "The only possible way you could pay back twenty-two hundred pounds in less than a week is on your back."

"How dare you!" She spat out the words contemptuously.

"You stubborn, silly girl! I can dare anything since I am the one you owe —"

"Twenty-two hundred pounds to," Blair interrupted insolently.

Lord Bass let out a ragged sigh, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. He looked at her face flushed with anger, her eyes glittering like stars and he gave in to temptation and stole a kiss.

He bent his head down to meet hers and his lips touched hers softly like butterfly wings. The caress of his lips on hers sent a spiral of tingling from her toes to her the tip of her head. Never would Blair have thought something like this was even possible. She had gone through her whole life never having been kissed, never wanting to be kissed, but here she was, absolutely entranced. Chuck's lips moved over hers tenderly, gently and then his kiss deepened. She didn't move, she barely breathed and then self-preservation reared its ugly head.

Blair couldn't believe she was stranded in the middle of an empty street, kissing a man who was known for fraternizing with loose women. Her hands came up her parasol catching in her gown and with all her might she shoved him in the chest. His lips left hers immediately and to her surprise he grinned at her.

Lord Bass had never been more pleased. The kiss had exceeded his expectations, electrifying and heating his blood in a way no woman had ever been able to do before.

"You odious man!" she choked. "You are a dastardly Duke!"

"I thought we had confirmed that I was a rake," he said, his lips curving into a smug smile.

He was laughing at her, his eyes dancing in merriment. That, more than the kiss, made her want to slap him but she was a lady and ladies didn't slap Dukes. Her palm connected to his cheek sharply with a loud satisfying noise…definitely worth the pain now pulsing in her hand.

He raised his hand to his cheek, his smile never leaving his face.

"I think you owe me an apology, Your Grace," she said, acidly.

"I never apologize for kissing a lady. So don't expect one because I am not in the least bit sorry." Laughter sparkled in his eyes as he looked down at her.

For the first time in her life, Blair Waldorf was speechless. Chuck took the opportunity to turn the phaeton and within minutes they were back on the main road through London.

The kiss was momentarily forgotten as her attention was caught by the steady procession of phaetons, broughams and curricles headed towards Hyde Park.

"Is it always like this?" she asked in awe.

"Every day but Sundays. It is the place to be seen."

Blair looked around in amazement at the traffic jam that surrounded them, the conveyances just as brightly colored as their occupants. Looking across the sea of carriages, her eyes caught the sight of two blonde heads bent together in laughter. Chuck followed her glance, across the entrance to the park where Nathaniel was obviously wooing Lady van der Woodsen.

"Since you insisted on dragging me out for a drive, tell me about Lord Archibald," Blair demanded abruptly, waving in response to Serena's greeting.

"He is a perfect gentleman. Everything that I am not." Chuck bantered in a relaxed manner.

"Well, that goes without saying, Your Grace," she said sarcastically. "Tell me, what are his prospects?" Passing from the forest of trees into the main throughway of the park, the sun hit her directly in the face. Lifting her parasol she busied herself with angling it in just the right direction to shade her porcelain skin.

"You mean does he have a large bank account?" Chuck caught Nathaniel's eye, and with a flick of his head communicated his approval. Nathaniel responded with a wink in Chuck's direction that Serena did not miss. Chuck was pleased to note the smiled of approval she cast in his direction. With an ally in Serena, his quest for Miss Waldorf's hand surely couldn't fail.

Blair nodded, glaring in Serena's direction as her cousin giggled at something Lord Archibald was currently whispering in her ear.

"He has an inheritance that nets him an income of ten thousand a year. Throw in the rents from his estates and he profits a tidy sum. Not in the wealthiest twenty percent by far, but respectable enough to support a wife and family in comfortable style."

"Tell me then, what were you doing paying of his debts at Mr. O'Conall's then?" Blair asked slyly. Looking up to see Lord Archibald and Serena's eyes on her, she gave them her most forbidding stare. They were sitting far too close together than she thought they should be. To her extreme consternation, they only laughed and returned to their conversation.

"I never said I was there to pay anyone's debts." Chuck said, his tone making his displeasure know at this line of questioning.

"I am not a brainless twit, Your Grace—."

"Chuck," he interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Blair asked puzzled, adjusting her parasol further as they moved from the shade into the sun once more.

"My friends call me Chuck."

"Well, I am hardly your friend, Your Grace," she muttered obstinately.

"I would say we went a little past friendship just a few minutes ago, Blair," he said smugly.

"As a gentleman, you would never refer to what was obviously a horrible lapse in judgment." Her voice rose in mortification.

"I thought I was a rake and a dastardly Duke?" He asked, mirth in his voice.

"You are not going to distract me by bringing up that unfortunate incident," she huffed. "I know what you are trying to do and it won't work. I have erased the whole thing from my mind. As far as I am concerned it never happened and it's Miss Waldorf for you, Your Grace!"

"Miss Waldorf," he said with mirth, bowing his head.

Crossing her arms she looked at him stubbornly. There was just one problem. She remembered every second his lips had spent on hers in exciting detail, the way her heart had hammered in her ears and the way her toes had curled in pleasure. In an attempt to focus on what truly mattered, Serena's future, she forced the memory of the kiss out of her mind.

"Either you tell me the truth about your little adventure at Mr. O'Conall's or I will ask Lord Archibald himself."

"So now you are blackmailing me, Miss Waldorf" he mused. He should be furious but never before had he found blackmail so delicious. She was truly his equal. "Call me Chuck and I will reveal all."

"Fine… Chuck," she breathed, the name rolling of her tongue like the most intimate caress. Never before had she called a gentleman by his first name, excepting Eric of course – but he was family. It felt as scandalous and forbidden as the kiss they had just shared and she couldn't help the way her pulse quickened in her throat as her lips formed his name.

He swallowed hard, his name on her lips making him think of silken sheets, her soft white skin and his fingers twining in her magnificent dark curls. Regretfully, he shook his head and focused on the road, trying to rid the passionate images from his head.

Clearing his throat, he began to share the bare minimum of information necessary. "Lord Archibald's father got into a bit of a problem with his gambling. He owed money to every gambling den in all of London. When he couldn't pay up, it was kindly suggested he leave the country if he didn't want to end up in debtor's prison. Unfortunately, Lord Archibald has an unfortunate problem with honor and being the upstanding gentleman he is, he tried to cover his father's debt with a loan from Mr. O'Conall. What he didn't realize was that moneylenders never play fair. Within months his interest rate had increased from ten percent to 40 percent."

"So you paid his debt?" Blair asked in disbelief.

Chuck nodded, not wishing to go into the details on exactly how he had freed Nathaniel from the O'Conall's clutches.

"That was actually very gentlemanly of you," she conceded. "Did you have a fever that day?"

Chuck laughed uproariously, the sound infectious enough that Blair couldn't help smiling in response.

"I must admit, it was for purely selfish motives. I couldn't stand seeing Nathaniel's long face day after day. I needed someone to drink and play cards with and all he could do was mope. I was forced to get involved if I ever wanted our things to return to normal. Nathaniel had gotten himself in deep and he didn't know how to honorably get out of the contract he had signed. Luckily for him, I have no compunctions about breaking an unjust contract."

"So you admit Lord Archibald is a gambler and a drinker?" Blair asked, with a victorious look on her face. It was just as she had expected. Lord Bass was hiding nefarious things from her about his best friend.

"I admit nothing other than I don't enjoy drinking or playing cards alone," he retorted, giving her a quelling glance.

"So then, Lord Archibald is easily led astray by the company he keeps?" She asked, refusing to give up on this line of questioning. After all, she had Serena's reputation to protect.

"No, just me," he said his lips twitching into a smile.

"That I can understand," she agreed all but rolling her eyes.

"Lady van der Woodsen would be lucky to land Nathaniel. He may not be the richest of gentleman, but he is kind and honorable and would treat his wife with respect."

"As long as you stay away, it sounds like he would make an excellent husband," she said dryly.

"The question is really would Lady van der Woodsen make him a good wife?" Lord Bass asked teasingly.

Chuck couldn't help laughing as Blair bristled like a wet cat.

"Why, he would be lucky to have her," Blair retorted, angrily. "Serena is not only a perfect lady. She is the sweetest and loveliest girl he could ever hope to meet. "

"So everything you are not," he teased, ducking as her parasol swayed perilously close to his top hat.

Blair bit her lip as she noticed the glances being thrown their way. "It is true, I am a hoyden and never will be a proper lady like Serena, but at least I try. That is more than you can say."

Chuck tipped his head in surrender. "Very true, Miss Waldorf."

Blair's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as she took in the site that was passing before their carriage. The elderly, painfully thin gentleman was dressed all in powder blue with buttons as large as fists on his waistcoat. His love of the color didn't stop there. His barouche was done up in the same colors, along with the livery of his handsomely matched groomsmen, whom from the looks of them could be twins. To top it off, sitting beside him on the seat were two large beribboned poodles, their fur coats dyed to match. The poor dogs gave her a baleful look as their master gave Lord Bass a low bow and he responded with a shorter one of his own.

"That is Lord Alverstoke, he is unmarried, very rich and destined for the madhouse," Chuck said, leaning his head towards hers in confidence.

"Just because he likes his clothes to match his things?" Blair asked, surprised. Sure it was a bit eccentric to match your carriage to your outfit and maybe even a bit odder still to do the same with your dogs, but surely this could be overlooked if the fortune was large enough.

"That isn't all he likes to match." Lord Bass smirked as he watched the wheels turn in Miss Waldorf's head.

After a few minutes she gave up. "What else is there," she asked confused.

"I think that question is best directed at his mistress, since she is the one who lost all her hair after his purple obsession."

"Oh," Blair said in a small voice, crossing him off her list of prospective suitors.

A pleasant five minutes passed as Lord Bass pointed out various members of the ton, making an effort to avoid any that might prove a possible contender in his suit for her hand. Blair couldn't help but enjoy the way he murmured in her ear, the way his shoulder pressed lightly against hers as he confided names, titles, and their capital per year.

Almost leaning into him in her eagerness for information, it was a shock to feel him pull away and straighten his spine. Glancing at the carriage that approached them she was surprised to see it was severe looking older women, dressed all in shades of pink. Was Lord Bass afraid of a lady old enough to be his grandmother? Surely he hadn't dallied with her too, she thought in horror.

"Whatever you do, be nice," Chuck whispered harshly in her ear as the carriage stopped alongside theirs.

"I'm always nice," she whispered through clenched teeth.

"Lord Bass," the lady said, inclining her head as if she was conferring a great favor on him.

"Lady Jersey," he replied courteously, doffing his top hat.

"I haven't seen you at Almack's for an age. I think you have been spending a little too much time carousing around town lately. A night spent in the company of respectable society for a change would be good for you," Lady Jersey scolded, wagging her finger at Lord Bass.

Blair swallowed nervously, her fingers showing white where she gripped the handle of her parasol. Lord Bass's reaction to the dragon now made sense. Lady Jersey, as one of the patronesses of Almack's Assembly rooms, could make or break a debutante's reputation by the offering or withholding of vouchers to it's Wednesday night balls. Vouchers were given only to the crème de la crème of society and could be revoked at any time for any reason. That Lord Bass hadn't had his revoked long ago was a miracle within itself. As a newcomer to the social scene, Blair had never aimed so high as to think she could receive vouchers.

Lady Jersey scanned Blair for the top of her bonnet to the tips of her slippers that peeked out from the white silk of her dress before her eyes finally landed on the red pelisse she wore.

"I heard you cause quite a stir with your dress last night, Miss Waldorf," Lady Jersey said with a no nonsense tone.

Blair held her breath as she waited for Lady Jersey to give her a dressing down on the impropriety of her gown. To tell her that no matter how high she married, her little act of rebellion had ruined all her chances of ever receiving vouchers to Almack's.

"In my day, it was not the thing at all. I wore bright green for my coming out ball. This fashion for young ladies to only wear white until they are properly married is really quite ridiculous. Why ignore all the colors of the rainbow, just to perpetuate a silly fashion?"

Blair exhaled slowly as the tongue-lashing she had expected never materialized, her gloved hand releasing the folds of her dress she hadn't even known she had been clenching.

"Why indeed," she said pleasantly, as she realized that Lady Jersey seemed to be waiting for a reply from her.

"I find it quite refreshing to see someone bold enough to make a statement while at the same time hanging on to the tenets that have been put in place by her elders. Not that I approve of insolence in the least from young ladies who might not know their place," she said with a withering look.

Blair had the grace not to look to too shamefaced when she recalled her lack of a proper courtesy to Lord Bass the night before.

"All is forgiven since I understand that the culprit of your actions was Lord Bass. Unfortunately, he is unused to the civility and decorum necessary for polite society functions. He certainly has spent little time at Almack's the last few years, but I am thinking that perhaps he can be bribed."

Lady Jersey looked at Lord Bass shrewdly; her eyes while old recognized all the signs of a burgeoning love match.

"I am thinking that if I were to offer Miss Waldorf vouchers for the season you might be tempted to grace us with your presence, Charles?"

Chuck all but groaned; this was black mail of the worst kind. If there was one place he hated more than any other, it was Almack's. The place was a den of conservative respectability. There was no gambling allowed, the refreshments lacked alcohol and one needed permission from a patroness to waltz. Glancing down at Blair's doe-like pleading eyes, he realized there was only one correct answer.

"I would love to spend my Wednesday evenings at Almack's," he said, his annoyed look quickly turning into one of pleasure as Blair radiated happiness.

"Wonderful." Lady Jersey smiled at the two of them conspiratorially, pleased at her days work. "Miss Waldorf, I will have your vouchers along with your guardian's, Lady van der Woodsen, and her daughter's delivered to you today. I expect to see you both on Wednesday," she said as she motioned for her groom to proceed.

Blair waited until Lady Jersey had passed several paces before she turned to Lord Bass.

"Thank you," she said softy, smiling at him shyly.

Chuck smiled back, his heart constricting as he took in her shining eyes and beautiful smile. It had all been worth it. He would spend every day of the week at Almack's if it meant she would smile at him like he was her personal guardian angel. He smile quickly turned to a frown as he realized that was exactly what he was and in the worst possible way. Now allowed into Almack's, Miss Waldorf was going to be surrounded by even more of the richest and most titled gentlemen in London.

It was as Lord Bass made his final turn of the park that a most unwanted visitor accosted him.

"Lord Bass, might I trouble you for an introduction to the gentle lady at your side?" the stranger called out, stiff and dignified as he maneuvered his carriage as close to the Bass phaeton as possible.

Chuck wanted to say no, crack his whip and tear out of the park like banshees were on his tail. Instead, with all eyes suddenly on him and no doubt diplomatic relations at stake, he was forced to accede.

"Miss Waldorf, Philippe, the Comte de Loire of France," he bit out.

Blair smiled at the Comte prettily. She couldn't help noticing how his hair shone like golden guineas in the sunlight and his eyes were the greenish blue of the ink found in pound notes. Her eyes took in the rest of his appearance, calculating his status based on the quality of his clothes and the appearance of his carriage and horseflesh. His clothes were made of quality, the fabric excellently tailored to fit his small boned yet masculine figure. She couldn't disparage his phaeton or his horses, but she was pleased to note that they did not in any way compare to the magnificence of Lord Bass's.

"Miss Waldorf, I would kiss your hand if only I wasn't encumbered by the distance of our carriages," the Comte said courteously, even as his hands pulled tautly at his reins to control his horse's unease at being to close to another carriage.

Chuck grinned evilly as he deliberately loosened his hands on his reins, hoping to spook the Comte's horses by giving his more freedom to move his phaeton closer to the Comte's.

"Will you be at Lady Fortenesque's musicale tonight?" the Comte asked hopefully, deliberately ignoring the snorting of his uncomfortable horses.

"Of course, Your Grace" Blair said looking at the Comte worriedly as his horses grew more and more restless. As Chuck drew his horses even closer to the Comte, Blair shot him a look of pure fury.

"I wish I could dally with you longer, but my horses seem to have a mind of their own today. Before I leave, promise me at least one dance."

"It is yours," Blair cried out happily, as the Comte's horses started to bolt.

Chuck's look of supreme dissatisfaction morphed into a smile of pure satisfaction as the Comte was forced to move far away from them in order to get control of his horses.

Blair turned to Lord Bass eagerly, "Tell me about the Comte?"

"He's French," Chuck said as if that explained everything.

Blair rolled her eyes, "I realize that. Tell me about his prospects?"

Chuck mentally calculated the best approach to that question. How he could diminish the Comte while at the same time not appear petty?

"Most of his estates were seized during the French Revolution, but his family somehow managed to leave with their fortune unscathed. He still is not legally recognized or welcome back in the French Republic, but he manages to exist quite nicely for an _émigré_. Also he certainly can't control his horses worth a farthing," Chuck said disdainfully.

Blair was quiet, knowing that if she spoke she would have to agree. She was glad Eric wasn't here to see this. He would have not hesitated to give the Comte a piece of his mind on his handling of his horses. Then again, if Eric was here, he would have horsewhipped Lord Bass for kissing her in the street or even worse, called him out for a duel.

As they were leaving the park, Blair became aware of an uncomfortable sensation that could only be the result of someone staring at her. Turning slightly, she saw the source. Lady Sparks was seated several feet away in a yellow and black carriage, looking at her with a hatred that left Blair breathless. She tried not to look at the Countess, but found it impossible not too. She had apparently not had trouble finding someone else to dally on furniture with. Seated by her side was a young man clearly infatuated with the woman, by the way he stared down the front of her dress.

Chuck leaned in close as they drove by, his mouth inches from her ear. "Don't give her the satisfaction of recognizing her existence. "

Blair nodded, her mind temporarily still as his hot breath feathered over her ear and down her neck. She wet her lips, the intimacy of the contact reminding her of the kiss he had stolen earlier. The one she had been trying so hard to forget.

He smirked at her, pleased beyond belief at the effect he had on her. It cancelled out all of his earlier irritation about the Comte. Now he just needed to figure out a way to keep the Comte and any other gentleman with any type of inheritance or fortune away from what he considered his.

The only sure way to do that was, of course, an engagement, but as money hungry as the minx seemed to be, she had balked at marrying him. The thought pleased him to no end since it meant marriage to him was as far from the cold fantasy of marriage in her head as possible.

Within minutes they had arrived back at the small rented Van der Woodsen home. Handing his reins to his groom, Chuck leapt gracefully from the phaeton, determined to be the one to hand Miss Waldorf down. Blair watched in appreciation as his long, lean figure made its way to her side. She couldn't deny that he was a handsome devil and just watching him move made her heart beat faster.

Handing her down, he lifted her hand to his lips. Even though her gloves prevented true physical contact, he wanted to leave her with this gallant gesture. Show her that while a rake he could also be the courtliest of gentlemen. Instead of looking at her hand in his, she found she could only look in his eyes. Dark and sensual, they swallowed her whole until she felt she couldn't see where she ended and he began.

"Promise me the supper dance tomorrow night?" Chuck demanded, his voice husky. The supper dance was the most important dance of the evening. Whichever partner you danced with the last dance before supper was the one you shared your meal with. Of course, this was hardly a private dinner when you considered everyone shared the same long tables, but it was a way for a gentleman and a lady to become better acquainted.

Blair hesitated; to give him this most prized dance meant that there would be even less time to give to a valid suitor. If she was ever going to right the Van der Woodsen fortunes and pay back Lord Bass, she needed to keep every dance open.

Lord Bass was not in the least resistant to a bit of coercion.

"Your cousin already promised hers to Lord Archibald last night. I think it would be best if we joined them so you can observe the couple and see that Lady van der Woodsen could do no better than Lord Archibald," he said smugly.

Blair could only give in. Her worry over Serena's heart trumped everything else. Her cousin seemed to be getting dangerously close to Lord Archibald and Blair had yet to speak more than three words to the man.

"Fine, the dance is yours," she conceded warily. She didn't trust Lord Bass in the least when it came to his friend. She had no doubt that he would do and say whatever was needed to get her to approve to the match between Serena and his friend, if it was what Lord Archibald wanted.

He gave her such a triumphant smile that she was tempted to slap him again. Instead, she turned her back on him and strode into the house, more determined than ever to do whatever it took to rid herself of her debt to him and get him out of her life as soon as possible.

* * *

Thoughts? Reviews are very much loved.

The chapters seem to be growing much larger than expected. Would it be easier for reading if I broke them up or are long chapters the preference?

Thanks goes to my beta's KateFinn and Madeleinex.


	4. Chapter 4

Regarding herself in the mirror, Blair was beyond pleased. With her design skill and Serena's skillful needle they had created a dress worthy of a fairy queen. Keeping within the bounds of propriety for a young debutante the gown was almost white. More accurately, it was a lovely shade of silver brocade that glimmered in the light like diamonds. To add the finishing touch, lavender ribbons had been sewn onto the small puffed sleeves and the hem. The shades of silver and lavender created a stunning backdrop for her pale skin and dark mahogany hair.

A small frown of displeasure crossed Blair's face as her eyes were drawn to the lack of jewelry in her ears and around her neck. Those small adornments were the only things that kept her outfit from being perfect. She couldn't help but notice at last night's ball, and her outing in the park, how every lady she encountered glittered and sparkled with gems. She supposed she could buy faux pieces, but the thought of wearing fake gems abhorred her.

"I still think it's missing something," Serena said, peering over Blair's shoulder as she finished pinning one of Blair's curls in place.

"A diamond necklace?" Blair asked sarcastically, wincing as Serena tugged on another curl, twining it and then pinning it.

"Maybe you could ask The Duke for one," Serena teased.

"Only if I want to get a reputation as a light skirt," Blair retorted, yanking her head away from Serena's fingers and glaring at her in the mirror. "Do you want to go back to the country?"

"No," Serena laughed. "I just think if you asked, Lord Bass would buy up all the diamonds in London."

"Don't be ridiculous," Blair scoffed, her fingers trailing over her décolleté as she imagined the type of necklace she would buy the moment the ink on her marriage certificate to a rich man was dry. "I am nothing more to Lord Bass than a diversion, something to make his life a little less boring in between bouts of gambling and drinking."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. A gentleman who is looking for a diversion does not spend his time in the company of young debutantes. He spends it elsewhere." Serena gave Blair a comical wink, waggling her eyebrows at her cousin suggestively.

Blair's steely countenance melted as she erupted into giggles at Serena's antics. At that moment she wanted more than anything to tell her best friend the truth. Lord Bass wasn't spending time with her because of any desire for her company or strong attraction to her person. She was just something to keep his boredom at bay and his only means of getting his investment returned. If it weren't for the fact that she owed him twenty-two hundred pounds he would never have asked her to dance. She had no illusions that without his attentions she would have spent the night sitting out most of the dances, joining the other wallflowers of the season sitting around the dance floor in gilt chairs.

As Serena bent over in laughter her gaze swept the floor and she couldn't help but notice the letter addressed to Eric van der Woodsen that lay on Blair's portable rosewood writing desk.

"You're writing a letter to Eric. Why didn't you tell me?" Serena said, reaching down for the parchment. "Here, let me add a postscript. There is so much I want to tell him."

With one swift stroke Blair ripped the letter from Serena's hand. "Sorry S, it is personal," she apologized.

Serena blinked at her in confusion. Postage being at a premium whenever one of them wrote to Eric at school, they always made a point of combining their letters into one to save money.

"Are you hiding something from me? Maybe something about a certain gentleman?" Serena's asked slyly, her eye sparkling at the thought of what would have provoked this correspondence so soon after Blair had been seen dancing and driving with a certain elusive gentleman.

"No, of course not," Blair said looking as guilty as a fox caught in the hen house.

"Then you won't mind if I have a look," Serena said gaily, grabbing the letter from Blair's hands.

Blair stared in horror as Serena began to unfold the parchment. "Serena Caroline van der Woodsen, you hand back that letter right now," she said in her most forbidding tone.

Looking at Blair mischievously Serena continued to slowly unfold the letter.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe that letter is about you? That maybe I am worried and concerned about my cousin's interest in a certain Lord Archibald?" Blair shouted angrily, even as guilt tore through her like a knife at the enormous lie she was telling. She hated that this was not the first lie she had told since she had first thought up this scheme for a London season. That this had simply become one of many in a web that was slowly starting to choke her. She liked to tell herself that it wasn't really lying, but rather evasion. Yet her heart knew differently.

Serena handed the letter back immediately, looking at her shamefacedly, her eyes misting with tears. "I'm sorry, B. I promise, I wasn't really going to read your letter."

If possible Blair felt even guiltier, her stomach tightening into knots. It was only the thought of her brilliant plan that saved her from confessing on the spot. It was bad enough she was going to have to tell Eric everything if she was going to get his help with her scheme. The thought of tangling Serena into her mess as well made her physically ill. Her only comfort was that if all went according to plan she would be debt free and out of Lord Bass's clutches that weekend.

Blair's arms reached out to embrace Serena. "Don't cry, you silly goose. You will ruin the perfection I spent hours achieving," she said dipping her head at Serena's image reflected in the mirror. "I swear if I have to redo a single curl on your head due to a crying tantrum, you will wish that you had risked my wrath and read every word of that letter," she threatened playfully.

Serena snorted, "Nothing is worth the wrath of Blair Waldorf. It amazes me that English intelligence has yet to recognize the weapon they have in you. The war with the French would be over the minute they sent you to the frontlines. One glare from you and they would be laying down their arms in a matter of seconds."

"I'm not that bad am I?" Blair asked, mortified.

"Yes," Serena affirmed in a tone that allowed no argument. "Yet we love you anyway," she sighed as if it pained her.

Catching sight of Serena's teasing grin in the mirror, Blair stuck out her tongue. Serena, not to be outdone, responded by pursing her lips and quacking like a duck.

Lily van der Woodsen paused in the doorway of Blair's room, smiling as peals of laughter filled the air. She hesitated to enter the room, enjoying the spectacle the girls were making as they each made funny faces, each one more hideous than the last.

"I don't think I have ever seen you two look more lovely," Lily said, catching them both cross-eyed and with their tongues hanging out in front of the mirror. She chuckled as they both turned around to look at her wide-eyed, their faces falling back into dignified expressions.

The truth was, Lily had rarely seen them look lovelier than they did this moment. Their cheeks flushed and dancing eyes only added to the picture of beauty and grace that was Blair Waldorf and Serena van der Woodsen. She wished they could always be seen this way. If only the single gentleman of the ton could see them like this, they would propose on the spot. Lily smiled tenderly at the girls as they both mumbled something incoherent about getting ready for the evening.

"I thought it would be a lovely touch if you girls wore flowers in your hair this evening." Gliding into the room she carried a spray of hydrangeas and one of tulips.

"I don't think we could have gotten better choice of flowers to match your dress, Blair. Silver and lavender are such difficult colors to work with, floral wise. You will have to thank Lord Bass in particular for these since he really couldn't have made a more perfect choice. Luckily for Serena any color will work with the white of her dress. Although, I must say these tulips of Lord Archibald's are particularly magnificent."

Lily lips quirked in amusement as she observed the way Serena's cheeks reddened at the mention of Lord Archibald.

"Aunt Lily, I couldn't possibly wear Lord Bass's hydrangeas" Blair said, setting her chin in a firm line. Knowing the smirk that would greet her if she favored his gift in such a manner was enough to make her wish she had thrown the flowers in the trash when she had the chance. The odious man would no doubt see her wearing his gift as a sign of her acceptance of his interfering presence in her life.

"Don't be silly, Blair. Hand me some hair pins." Lily deftly fanned a few tulips into a beautiful hairpiece and then held out her hand.

"They really don't match my dress at all," Blair argued, even as she obediently handed out the pins one by one to Lily so she could attach the tulips like a crown to Serena's head.

"I think the lavender in the hydrangeas is the same color as the ribbons in Blair's dress, don't you Mama?" Serena piped up, casting Blair a wicked look.

"No, they're not. My ribbons are silvery lavender and the flowers are a blueish lavender. Not the same at all. Such a shame, really." Blair shook her head, giving Lily the most disappointed look she could conjure. Unfortunately for Blair, Lily was familiar with most of Blair's expressions and this was one she had experienced many times.

Lily didn't bother to argue; instead she seized Blair's head and handed the hydrangeas to Serena. "Pull off just the tips of the flowers, Serena. Instead of a crown we will sprinkle them throughout Blair's curls."

Blair scowled in the mirror as Lily and Serena tucked and artfully placed the tiny flowers throughout her coiffure. Even she had to admit when they were finished that the effect was amazing. The delicate blooms did match her dress perfectly and against her dark hair they looked like tiny stars.

"There, you look lovely." Lily smiled in satisfaction at her handiwork.

"It will do," Blair conceded as she gazed in the mirror admiringly, Lily looking on knowingly. Gathering the remains of the hydrangeas that had drifted to the floor, Serena hid her smile.

Lily cleared her throat, something obviously on her mind. "I know it is early, but with his attention to you so marked, have you considered the Duke?"

"Considered him?" Blair repeated, clearly faking ignorance.

"For marriage?" Lily asked, patience etched across her face.

"No," Blair's answer came so fast, Lily blinked in surprise.

The conversation taking a dangerous turn, Blair resorted to evasive tactics. Busying herself with removing her dancing slippers from her wardrobe, she missed the long look that passed between Serena and Lily.

"No? But he is such a good catch. One of the handsomest and wealthiest gentlemen in London," Lily mused in her soft-spoken manner. "You could make no better match if it is wealth and looks that are your highest level of priorities."

"You left out his other qualities…the drinking, gambling and women," Blair replied sarcastically.

Lily dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "I have known Lord Bass since he was a child and that is not the boy I know. That behavior only started as a rebellion against his father. While it has gotten worse since the old Duke's death I don't think it will last once he is happily married. His father was much the same way; carousing in sin up until the day he met his wife, Misty. Charles is a lot more like his father than he will ever know."

"Even if I was interested in Lord Bass, which I am not in the least—" Blair shot both Lily and Serena such a quelling glance that - if they didn't know Blair so well - would have shot shivers up their spine. "Dukes do not marry penniless ladies far beneath their station."

"Lord Bass will marry where he pleases. He has no reason to marry for wealth or position since he has both. He won't want anything other than a lady who loves him," Lily replied gently.

"Then he best look elsewhere," Blair announced coolly, turning her attention to lacing the satin ribbons of her dance slippers. Hiding behind her task it was easy to ignore the way her heart leapt at the thought of not only being a Duchess, but being married to a man whose kisses set her blood afire.

"Oh, Blair. When will you give up this foolish notion that all marriages are as unhappy as your parents?" Lily looked at Blair with pity. "Not every love match ends in accusations and recriminations. I only ask that you give your heart as well as your head a voice when it comes to your future marriage. "

The sound of the grandfather clock in the hallway striking eight o'clock offered Blair the interruption she so desperately craved.

"We're going to miss the first dance if we don't leave now," Blair rushed out, giving Serena a pleading look.

Serena groaned inwardly, she never could resist Blair's entreaties. "She's right, Mama. We don't want to be late. I promised Lord Archibald the first dance."

"I'll meet you downstairs," she called as she flounced out the door of her bedchamber.

Giving her mother an apologetic look, Serena followed her cousin, leaving Lily to stare after them bemused. Once again the girls had gently outmaneuvered her.

* * *

"What the devil? I could have sworn she was dancing with someone else?" Lord Bass all but growled as he waited at Lily's side for Blair to return. He peered at his quarry's lithe figure floating among the throng of dancers, her features shadowed by the hundreds of flickering candles that hung from the chandeliers.

"Who?" Lady van der Woodsen asked playfully. She had spent the last few hours observing the Duke and to her amusement he did not disappoint. He had arrived at Lady Fortensque's soon after they did, and while he had played several hands of cards, like clock work he kept wandering back to the ballroom. It was obvious to everyone that Miss Waldorf had not only managed to capture his attention, but his fascination with her had not waned the least in the last few days.

"Miss Waldorf," he said coolly, pretending that she wasn't the only reason he wasn't now in the middle of a game of Faro.

Lily smiled a secret smile behind her painted fan. "Now that you mention it, I think she was dancing with someone else just a few minutes ago. I believe the gentlemen are cutting in on each other. Not very gentlemanly of them, but young men are so ardent when their attentions are engaged."

"I can't believe she is dancing with that fop." Frowning, Chuck lifted his flute of champagne to his lips and drained it in one gulp.

"The Comte de Loire?" Lady van der Woodsen asked, looking at Lord Bass innocently, knowing perfectly well who he meant. "Why he is a perfectly respectable partner, and if his interest can be measured by the number of times he has danced with Miss Waldorf, he is very much a contender for her hand."

"How many times has she danced with him?" Chuck asked, his expression growing even more forbidding.

"I believe this is the third time," Lily replied, with a long measuring look at the Duke. Lord Bass had reason to be worried, four dances was practically tantamount to an engagement. Although Lily knew Blair was a treasure, beautiful as well as spirited, she hadn't expected so much interest in her young charge so early in the season. Lord Bass, while certainly playing a role in her so quickly becoming one of the most sought after young misses in the season had little to do with Blair maintaining the interest. Blair had done that all on her own with her very unique manner and wit. While the Comte was all that was respectable, she couldn't help but think that his stiff and very formal personality was perhaps not the best match for the very outspoken Blair. Then again, perhaps that was exactly why he was drawn to her. She was everything that he was not.

Blair was feeling satisfyingly tired as the dance concluded. She had danced every dance and for once she felt exactly like Cinderella. Distracted by her many suitors she had found it possible to forget, for brief periods of time, Lord Bass and his toe-curling kiss. It was infuriating how he seemed to have wormed his way into her brain, and not just because of the debt she owed him. She could have sworn he had been watching her the whole evening - his eyes pinning her like a needle through a pincushion.

Curtseying low, she was aware that once again Lord Bass seemed to be staring at her. Most likely calculating how soon she could engage herself to the Comte so that he could be rid of her and her debt.

"Miss Waldorf, you dance like an angel," the Comte cried rapturously.

"Thank you, my Lord. I am afraid that outside of my dancing I am as far from an angel as possible," Blair said ruefully.

"I find that hard to believe, Miss Waldorf." The Comte said looking scandalized yet at the same time pleased at her frankness.

"Spend enough time with me and you will see I am a perfect hoyden," Blair laughed, letting herself be led of the dance floor and back to Lady van der Woodsen.

"An introduction, Comte?" a voice asked smoothly from Blair's left. Face to face with the young man asking, there was nothing the Comte could do but heed the request.

"Miss Waldorf, Lord Baizen." The Comte introduced, his tone reflecting the disapproval that was etched in his face.

"A dance, Miss Waldorf?" Lord Baizen asked confidently, holding out his arm.

Taking a moment, Blair looked to Lily for guidance. But instead of Lily's warning look, all she saw was Lord Bass and his dark, angry stare. Tilting her head defiantly, she smiled warmly at Lord Baizen. "Of course, My Lord."

Ensconcing her in his arms Lord Baizen swung her into midst of the other dancing couples. Comte de Loire hurriedly made his way back to Lady van der Woodsen, apologizing profusely for his inexcusable lapse in not stopping Miss Waldorf from being apprehended by Lord Baizen.

Lord Bass shook his head, muttering curses under his breath about stubborn females and dissolute Lords who should have stayed on the continent where they belong. Lord Carter Baizen was not the type of gentleman Miss Waldorf should be associating with. Not only was he truly a rake, he was also a thieving blackguard who should have been called out long ago. All but disowned by his family, he now made a living fleecing young gentleman up from the country of their inheritances at the card tables. As if that wasn't bad enough, there were the young debutantes from previous seasons, whose reputations he had ruined with only a few public kisses.

"I will have you know that I am penniless and not the least interested in marriage," Lord Baizen confessed gallantly, catching Blair's eye.

"That is good to know, My Lord, because then I needn't waste my time trying to impress you with my lady like accomplishments." Blair responded gaily, wondering why Lily was looking at her like something dreadful had befallen her. From looks alone, Lord Bazien appeared respectable even if his hair was a bit unfortunate.

"I was told you were an original," Lord Baizen laughed, giving her an admiring glance.

"That is a nice way of putting it," Blair quipped.

"Tell me about your self, Miss Waldorf?"

"I have no real talents to speak of. I too am penniless, but unlike you I am very interested in marriage. As a female, it is my only avenue to a fortune." Her spine stiffened under Lord Baizens touch as she realized Lord Bass was gazing at them with undisguised fury.

Lord Baizen favored Lord Bass with a cunning look as his arms drew Blair closer into an embrace. "There is one asset you forget to mention that is worth more than a fortune."

"What is that, My Lord?" Blair asked, frowning slightly her at her dance partners attempt at closer intimacy. She did not enjoy being squeezed like a boa constrictor's meal.

"Why your pretty face, of course," Lord Baizen said amorously.

"I believe you are an accomplished flirt, My Lord," Blair replied dryly, pushing back at his tight and indecent hold.

"It is one of my accomplishments, but in this case I speak the truth." He gave a look of such earnestness Blair was tempted to believe his words were genuine.

"What would be your other accomplishments, My Lord?" She asked giving Lord Bass her most forbidding look.

"I have only one other and that would be gambling. " Lord Baizen leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "Although it is really rather a profession since I have been disinherited by my family."

"Can one make very much money at cards and games of chance?" Blair asked, suddenly very interested in most forgiving of Lord Baizen.

He looked at her, his blue eyes gleaming shrewdly. "Enough to make a very decent living. Why in a good night I can make thousands of pounds."

Blair was forced to lean even closer to Lord Baizen as her feet stumbled over each other in shock at his revelation. Here was an answer she had never thought of. If she was lucky, she would have the whole problem fixed by the time Eric came to town. Then he could have a nice visit instead of being forced to participate in a money making scheme he would most certainly disapprove of.

"Where exactly would a young lady interested in partaking in such an activity go?" She asked with an air of calm she did not feel.

"A lady would not be seen at Widow Firth's, but she might be granted admittance if she arrived incognito with a mask," he said under his breath as the dance came to an end.

"Then it is a good thing that I have no interest in visiting…Widow Firth's is it?" She peeped up innocently at him through her long eyelashes.

"Yes, Widow Firths," he repeated with a wink. "23 Albermarle Street."

Rising from her curtsey she found herself face to face with Lord Bass, smiling at her ferociously.

"Lord Bass," Lord Baizen greeted, a hint of laughter in his voice as he bowed his way off the dance floor.

Chuck nodded with a taut jerk of his head, his displeasure with Lord Baizen made clear.

"I believe this is my dance, Miss Waldorf? " The Duke's courteous manners were edged with a hint of steel.

"I think I have injured my ankle. Perhaps another time," Blair said archly, looking to Lady van der Woodsen for help and only receiving an encouraging nod.

"Then shall we sit and have a nice long chat? Get to know each other more intimately," Lord Bass leered, his eyes regarding her intensely.

"My ankle suddenly feels much better," Blair said shakily, her knees practically trembling at the strange feelings he aroused inside her chest.

"That's what I thought," he replied insolently.

He was just as good a dancer as she remembered. Having danced with most of the eligible gentlemen in the room that evening, she found herself to have become a very good judge of dance partners. Holding her with just the right amount of strength to make her curves melt into him, her body was held spellbound by his hold.

"If you have any care of your reputation, you won't be seen in Lord Baizen's company again." Chuck said lightly, his anger vanishing as his leather gloved hand slid delicately over the smooth expanse of her back.

Blair's skin grew heated under his touch, sharply reminding her of the fire that had coursed through her veins when he stole a kiss.

"I didn't realize that your financial obligation extended to determining who I am and am not allowed to associate with." Blair said shortly, giving him a cutting look.

"It does when you fraternize with a known blackguard. He has ruined more than one debutante's reputation and I would hate to have you sent back to the country in disgrace," Chuck said grimly. Even his high standing as a Duke, and his close friendship with the Prince of Wales, wouldn't be able to save her reputation if she was ever found alone in the company of Lord Baizen. It didn't matter if there was nothing between them, just the hint of the possibility would be enough to ruin Miss Waldorf forever.

"You needn't worry yourself, I won't do anything to jeopardize the repayment of your loan," she replied angrily.

"Damn it Miss Waldorf! I am not worried about the loan." His brows drew together in an agonized expression.

""Well, you needn't concern yourself. I can take care of myself." She stared at him defiantly, like she was facing down a squad of French soldiers.

"That is what I am afraid of," he sighed.

Their dance ended abruptly as the tinkling sounds of the orchestra ceased and the Royal march was played.

Blair took a breath of utter astonishment, falling into a deep curtsy as the Prince Regent graced the ballroom with his presence. Overweight, his eyes scrunched into his face, he was the closest she had ever come to royalty and she was enthralled. Head bowed she waited for him to pass by only to nearly swoon with dizziness when he stopped at her feet.

"Chuck, is this the lovely Miss Waldorf that London has been agog about?" His Highness, demanded. Holding out his hand, he gave Blair permission to rise. Laying her tiny hand in his she gracefully swept to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her gown.

The prince reached out, his fingers lifting her chin so he could take a better look at the female that had supposedly ensnared his good friend.

She stared back, her eyes meeting his head on. To her surprise the Prince smiled widely, chuckling.

"No milk and water miss for you, eh, Chuck? She certainly is a pretty thing. Present me." the Prince demanded.

"Your Highness, Miss Waldorf. Miss Waldorf, His Highness the Prince Regent. "

Following protocol Blair once more swept him her lowest and most deferential courtesy. Chuck couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. She was behaving perfectly for the one person that mattered above anyone else. To have the Prince's approval, meant his suit of marriage would be approved by the highest power in all of England. There would be no excuse for them not to wed when he properly proposed.

"Where have you been hiding yourself, Miss Waldorf?"

"In the country, Your Highness," she smiled at him coquettishly.

"I must take a visit if you are what they are producing in the country these days."

Blair scrunched her nose up adorably. "All they seem to produce where I'm from is an abundance of milk and horrible smells."

His Highness chuckled once more, and the crowd surrounding them buzzed like bees as word of the Prince's approval spread. All eyes focused on the scene before them which allowed the small scene in the back of the darkened ballroom to be, unfortunately, completely overlooked. Head's bent together, his lips almost tickling her ear, Lord Baizen conferred with Lady Sparks.

"She is lovely, Chuck. One of a kind. I approve," The Prince said majestically.

Having rendered his judgment, the Prince Regent made his way to the dinner already laid out in the candlelit gardens.

Blair's eyes danced with happiness, her face shining with joy. "His Highness approves. Pinch me I must be dreaming."

"Just where would you like me to pinch you? Because I can think of several delectable places," Lord Charles said playfully.

She arched one perfect brow in his direction, leaving no doubt as to her feeling on the matter.

Holding out his arm, he placed his finger over hers and led her to where Lord Archibald and Lady van der Woodsen were already waiting for them. Blonde heads bent over a plate of fruit they had obviously started their repast without their best friends in attendance.

"You have now achieved the very pinnacle of success." Lord Bass smiled down at Miss Waldorf in admiration. "I have never seen the Prince Regent so easily charmed."

"And all I had to do was be myself." Her voice was filled with wonder and she couldn't help beaming at Lord Bass. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Lord Bass inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat at the glory that was Miss Waldorf's smile. "Chuck."

"Thank you, Chuck," She said softly, for the first time looking at him like he was the prince of her fairytale.

Time seemed to stand still, colors blurring, the whispers and stares of the crowds and the gentle strains of the dinner music disappearing as they lost themselves in each other.

"Blair!" Serena shrieked, jumping out of her gilt chair to give her best friend a hug. "I can't believe you met His Highness. Was he everything we dreamed he would be?"

Yanked reluctantly back to reality, Blair was grateful for Serena's interruption. Heart fluttering, she had found herself almost yearning for Lord Bass's lips once again on hers. He stirred within her something powerful, something that shook her to her very core, and something that must be locked away if she would have any hope of fulfilling her dream of a loveless match.

"He was everything we imagined. Well…maybe a bit larger that his pictures, but still a fine figure of a man. It was like something out of a fairy story, "Blair said dreamily. "Serena, he said he approved of me." Her eyes were awash with wonderment.

"Of course he did! How could anyone not approve of Blair Waldorf?" Serena asked loyally.

Lord Archibald and Lord Bass's eyes met over the top of the girl's heads. They could think of lots of people, many in this very garden, whom would love to communicate their disapproval of Miss Waldorf. Unfortunately for them, with a Duke's patronage and now a Prince's approval, it would take a grave faux pas on Miss Waldorf's part before a word of disapproval would be allowed to pass their lips.

"Miss Waldorf, please join us?" Lord Archibald offered, gesturing to the chair across from him and Serena.

"Yes, please do," Lady van der Woodsen pleaded, pulling on her friends arm towards the vacant chair. Serena wanted more than anything for her cousin to get to know Lord Archibald. She just knew that once Blair got to know him, she would find that he was all that was kind and sweet in a gentleman. If she ever hoped to find happiness with Lord Archibald she knew she would need Blair's approval.

"I can't think of anything I would rather do," she said in a sweet tone that belied the cool calculating look she was currently giving Lord Archibald.

With a flourish Lord Bass drew out the chair across from Lord Archibald. Gracefully, sweeping up the small train of her dress in one hand, Blair seated herself, allowing Lord Bass to slide her chair closer to the table.

"Tell me about yourself, Lord Archibald," Blair asked, keeping her tone light and pleasant.

"I am an only child and heir to an earldom with an income of ten thousand a year," he said nervously, feeling like a naughty child called to account by a parent.

"More than enough to support a wife," Lord Bass joked, winking at Serena.

To cover her blushes Serena pushed the plate of fruit her and Lord Archibald had been nibbling on in front of Blair. "Try the strawberries. They're delectable," she hinted, hoping to change the subject.

"Any vices we should know about? Gambling, drinking, women or maybe visits to moneylenders?" Blair popped a strawberry in her mouth as she gazed at Lord Archibald innocently.

"Blair," Serena sputtered.

Lord Archibald flashed Lord Bass a look of pure panic.

The Duke eyed Miss Waldorf coldly. "Lord Archibald is all that is honorable. There is not another gentleman of my acquaintance who I hold in higher regard. Is money lending really a topic you want to explore, Miss Waldorf?" Chuck asked warningly.

"Perhaps not," she said glaring at him.

"Then I think this line of conversation is concluded," he said, his voice flat.

Shame colored Lord Archibald's face. "I did visit a money lender's once. My father got into some trouble and I didn't have enough to cover his debts. It was a horrible mistake that I deeply regret. I didn't realize when I signed the papers that I was essentially signing away all rights to my allowance." Glancing at Lord Bass with gratitude he continued, "Luckily I had the best of friends in Lord Bass. Not only did he get me out of my contract, he covered my debt."

"Lord Bass certainly does like to play at the Good Samaritan." Blair said archly. "I wonder what was in it for him?"

Lord Archibald glanced inquisitively between Miss Waldorf and Lord Bass and was not disappointed. There was something going on between the two of them that he and Miss van der Woodsen were not privy to. He just hoped that it would only serve to bring his friend and Miss Waldorf closer. He knew his friend better that anyone, and Lord Bass was smitten with Miss Waldorf. While the Duke liked to pretend to the world that he was impervious to all emotions, Lord Archibald knew better.

"That is enough, Blair!" Serena exclaimed angrily. "You are out of line with this interrogation and this conversation is finished." Pushing back her chair forcefully, she smiled at Lord Archibald. "I find I am in need of some fresh air. If you wouldn't mind escorting me for a stroll? I would be most appreciative."

"I could hardly refuse a ladies request," Lord Archibald said, holding his arm out to Serena.

"Very badly done, Miss Waldorf," Chuck said grimly.

Shame was written across Blair's face as she watched the retreating couple. "Serena is more than a cousin to me - she is a sister. I want only what is best for her."

"I think Lady van der Woodsen is a better judge of that than you are. You will only ruin the bond between you if you don't allow her to make her own choices."

Blair sighed heavily, "I know you are right, yet I find it hard to let go. The van der Woodsen's are my only family and I feel the urge to protect them fierce and difficult to set aside."

"It only does you credit. Your loyalty is a character trait I find most endearing," Chuck said softly.

Blair stared at him tongue tied as her heart beat like a thousand drums. He was doing it to her once again, making her feel something she didn't want to feel. She wanted more than anything to look away, but found he wouldn't let go of her eyes. Captivated she missed the approach of her other suitor, the Comte de Loire.

"Miss Waldorf, could I interest you in a walk through the gardens?" The Comte asked with a courteous manner.

"Miss Waldorf hasn't finished her dinner." Lord Bass looked down his nose warningly at the other man.

The Comte cleared his throat nervously, Lord Bass suddenly reminded him very much of a caged lion just about to pounce. Normally a very cautious man, he found for the first time in his life he was not about to back down. Miss Waldorf was the most fascinating woman he had ever met. Like a light in the darkness she made his life seem dull when he wasn't in her presence.

"Of course," Blair answered hastily pretending not to notice Lord Bass's disapproving frown.

"We are not finished, Miss Waldorf." Lord Bass drawled at his most blasé.

"We will be by Monday," she said, giving him a pert curtsey.

As she walked in the direction of the gardens she could feel the Lord Bass's stare burning a hole like a magnifying glass to the sun between her shoulder blades.

"Miss Waldorf, I realize as a Frenchman I don't have nearly the consequence as your other English suitors, but I would hope you would regard me as a possible contender for your affections."

Blair gave him an encouraging smile. "I would hope I wouldn't be so silly as to let a small thing like that bother me. "

"I am honored by your benevolence," he murmured, looking at her with joy.

"I want you to know that while I have no estates in my homeland, my family did manage to escape the terror with enough of our finances intact that my lifestyle has not been too adversely affected."

"The status of your fortune means little to me, Your Lordship. My heart is blind to matters of money," Blair lied convincingly.

"Your charity knows no bounds." Lifting her gloved hand to his lips, he placed a kiss upon her fingertips.

Blair blinked slowly, confused at her body's lack of reaction. When Lord Bass touched her, kissed her, she felt shivers of delight coursing through her body. What was wrong with her that she felt nothing from the Comte when he was exactly what she wanted?

The Comte took her lack of response as evidence of her overwhelming attraction to him. "I am pleased beyond belief that I already appear to have a tiny hold over your heart."

Blair nodded, speechless.

"I look forward to getting to know you intimately over the rest of the season, Miss Waldorf.

"We shall be two peas in a pod," she said flirtatiously, coming back to her senses. Here was her chance to fulfill her dreams of marriage and she wouldn't let Lord Bass ruin it for her.

The crowds in the garden began to thin, the dance floor emptying as guests started to make their way home.

"I should, for propriety's sake return you to Lady van der Woodsen," The Comte said, already leading her back into the ballroom. "May I call on you at your home, Miss Waldorf?"

"Please do. How else shall we become better acquainted?" She asked teasingly as they walked up to Lady van der Woodsen.

"Your Lordship, thank you so much for returning Miss Waldorf," Lily said warmly.

"I have asked Miss Waldorf if I could call on her and she has accepted. I hope that meets with your approval?"

"Certainly." Lily smiled gently at the Comte, happy for Blair if this was what she wanted. Her smile grew even wider as Serena arrived escorted by Lord Archibald.

"Lord Archibald, perhaps you could come for tea this week?" Blair caught and held Serena's gaze communicating, in their special way, her apology. While Blair hadn't exactly apologized to Lord Archibald, this was close for her and Serena was willing to accept it. Serena glowed with happiness.

"Thank you, Miss Waldorf. I accept your kind invitation." Lord Archibald grinned widely at Lady van der Woodsen. He was supremely pleased by this turn of events, knowing that the pathway to Serena's heart was through her family.

"I will take my leave of you, Miss Waldorf and count the hours until my visit," the Comte said, bowing to the ladies.

Smiled at him graciously, Blair waited until he was out of earshot before asking the question that had been plaguing her.

"Where is your friend?" She asked, nonchalantly looking around the ballroom.

"Lord Bass?" Lord Archibald inquired with a knowing smile.

Blair gave him an exasperated glance. "Yes."

"I believe he left to indulge in some womanizing and gambling," Serena joked, bestowing on Lord Archibald a telling glance.

"He retired for the evening, as should I. It is getting late," Lord Archibald bowed, taking his leave of the van der Woodsen's and Miss Waldorf.

"You don't really think he is out gambling and womanizing?" Blair questioned Serena horrified.

Serena smirked coolly at her friend, pleased that she had given Blair something to ponder. The sooner she realized that Lord Bass was her equal and her perfect match the better.

* * *

I've been suffering from a bit of writer's block so this chapter is not quite what I wanted it to be. If you like it please comment and let me know.

Much love to my reviewers: Kate2008, chole92, greydoesmatter, QuieraStrawberry9, Edwardslover09, Ele, peckforever, Co, Screwy, Bye11, abelard, pam halliwell, BrucasLoveX, TriGemini, SaturnineSunshine, Tiffany Tam, Ju', lokiyan, vanillalatte86, Blood Red Kiss of Death, Lai, Kensley-Jackson and RL92chic.

Special thanks to Camilla (uncorazonquebrado) for her tireless beta work.


	5. Chapter 5

Arriving at Widow Firth's at exactly ten o'clock in the evening Blair soon realized her error. She was by far the youngest female in the place, the play was high stakes and the players were far from gentleman. It came as no little shock that more than just gambling went on here from the looks of it. Several gentlemen were just as interested in the cards as they were in groping the women at their sides. Blair watched in wide eyed wonder as several giggling and boisterous couples made their way up the wide curved staircase obviously in search of a more quiet and private place than the gambling floor.

If it weren't for the fact that she was so very desperate to get Lord Bass out of her life she would have turned and fled. Glancing around the smoky, dimly lit room she recognized one familiar face, Lord Baizen. Ducking behind a column she stared at the cabbage rose peeling wall papered wall praying that he wouldn't recognize her in her black lace mask. To her dismay he made his way to her side smiling broadly.

"Perhaps the lady would enjoy a hand of cards?" Lord Baizen asked, holding out his arm. "Do you have a favored game?"

"Faro," she said huskily attempting to mask her voice. She wasn't sure Lord Baizen knew who she was, but just in case he didn't she wasn't taking any chances.

Instead of leading her to the card tables he escorted her in the opposite direction towards the gardens.

"I believe the card tables are that way," she said acidly as his arm wormed it's way around her waist.

"I thought we could spend some time getting to know each other better first. We have all night to play cards." He leaned in to place a moist kiss on her neck.

Wrenching herself out of his grip, she turned and kicked him hard in the shin with her small pointed shoe. "If you ever try that again you will find my foot in a much more vulnerable area, My Lord," she hissed in his ear, while smiling sweetly for the few heads that had turned in their direction at her action. Thanks to Eric's tutelage she knew exactly how to bring a man to his knees in pain.

Letting out a groan his hand reached down to rub at his sore leg. "Cards it is," he said ruefully.

Flustered and angry Blair failed to notice the angry glare he shot a certain masked woman seated at another table playing a hand of whist.

The Faro tables full of occupants, Blair expected to have to wait her turn, but to her surprise as soon as they arrived two players immediately rose to hand over their chairs.

Seating herself at the green baize card table Blair laid out her small pile of gold guineas. Before she could even begin to play, a glass of wine was shoved into her hand. Blair knew better than to combine drinking and card playing, but she was tempted to take a sip. Her nerves were jumping like grease on a hot fry pan, but she knew to take even the smallest drink would dull her wits and she couldn't risk that. This small sum of money was all that was left of her loan from Lord Bass.

"This little lady doesn't know the first thing about gaming. What do you say we teach her?" Lord Baizen asked, with a crafty gleam in his eye as he exchanged glances with the other men at the table.

Blair stared at Lord Baizen horrified. If she ever had a chance to cut him publicly she would. The man was truly a scoundrel.

With trembling hands she played and lost the next few rounds. Hot tears pricking her eyes, she counted her few remaining guineas. She had practiced playing all afternoon, winning every hand. What had gone wrong that she was now losing every play?

"Gentleman I think I will need to take my leave. You have cleaned me out," Blair said weakly, her fragile control slipping. A strong hand reached out to grasp her elbow pulling her once more back to her chair.

"Not quite yet," Lord Baizen replied, his voice oily and slick. "I believe there are a few more guineas you have left to play with."

"I can't wager them, they are all that is left." She looked at the faces seated around the table pleadingly. They regarded her stonily, not about to argue with Lord Baizen over a lady who clearly was no better than she should be. Her heart fell to her feet as Lord Baizen slid her remaining coins to the center of the table.

"Deal the cards," he demanded, smiling with pleasure at the dark haired lady that now stood against the wall observing the scene with satisfaction. The thoughts of the many ways she would be rewarding him this night danced in his head. "The lady bets all."

Blair jumped as a sword whacked the table, nearly slicing of one of Lord Baizen's fingers. A soft gasp escaping her lips at the horror and fear that was suddenly reflected in her fellow players faces.

"I believe a new deck of cards is in order." A deceptively bored voice called out from behind her. Her heart pounding in her ears, Blair didn't need to turn around, she already knew who stood behind her. Meticulously the rapier slowly slid across the table slicing the table and scarring the wood edge.

"Any objections to my partnering with the young lady?" Lord Bass drawled, glancing around the room with icy contempt. The room was as silent as a graveyard. "That is what I thought," he commented, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile.

One of the men cautiously rose to leave the game only to be poked in the chest with Lord Bass's sword until they were once more seated. "Nobody leaves this game until the lady has had a chance to play a legitimate hand of cards."

Staring studiously at the frayed and sliced fabric covering the table in front of her Blair avoided all eye contact with Lord Bass. She winced as he threw down his heavy coin purse, dumping the golden contents on the table as he seated himself in the chair next to her.

A new pack of cards was quickly opened and a new hand of cards dealt. Picking up her cards, Blair shivered as Lord Bass leaned in, his hot breath feathering across the delicate ivory skin of her neck. She stole a quick look at him as he lifted his glass of scotch to his lips. Lord Bass was exquisitely dressed as always in a formal black coat with a deep purple waistcoat that contrasted with his snowy white cravat. A lock of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead and Blair had to restrain herself from smoothing it back.

Without saying a word he tapped on the card he wanted her to play. She nodded, happy it was the card she had already planned on playing anyway. Together they easily won the hand.

"Lord Bass, this is ridiculous. You can't honestly expect us to play against the lady when you are advising her every move," Lord Baizen objected loudly, having lost a good of money on the hand. He looked to his masked partner for help only to find that she had somehow disappeared.

Blair glowered at Lord Baizen. "My Lord, perhaps if you had treated me like an equal partner and hadn't decided to pluck me like a ripe chicken we wouldn't be in these current circumstances."

"If there is any question of what is fair, Lord Baizen, feel free to express yourself on the fields at dawn and let your sword do the talking. " Lord Bass stroked the top of his walking stick lazily, his fingers playing with the catch that released the sword from its sheath.

Lord Baizen's complexion faded, fear stark and vivid flittering in his eyes. Lord Bass's skill with the sword was well known throughout London. Even the Prince Regent had been known to take a lesson from him.

"Forgive me, Miss—" Lord Baizen halted, catching himself mid sentence before her real name slipped his lips. The last think he needed was to be drawn and quartered by Lord Bass in the middle of a gaming establishment. That was not how he wanted the end of his life to play out. He had me a fatal error in deciding to dally with Miss Waldorf. He hadn't realized how deep Lord Bass's affections ran for the young lady. Out of the corner of his eye he finally caught site of Lady Sparks, her face taut and stony as the plan she had so carefully set up fell to ruin under Lord Bass's interference.

Lady Sparks ground her teeth in irritation trying not to let this little set back get to her. At the time seeding the deck and playing with marked cards had seemed like the perfect plan. Everyone knew Miss Waldorf's fortune was non-existent. It had even been whispered that she had been seen entering a moneylender's office, although, that gossip had been quickly stifled. If the loss of her meager fortune didn't force Miss Waldorf back to the country, being seduced by Lord Baizen certainly would. Unfortunately, Carter Baizen seemed to have failed in that direction judging by Miss Waldorf's reaction to his overtures. Cursing under her breath Lady Sparks took comfort in the thought that with such a hoyden, as Miss Waldorf there would be more than enough opportunities to discredit and ruin her.

Game after game was won, the pile of coins in front of Blair growing larger until she had twice as much as she started with. To her dismay and excitement Lord Bass drew closer and closer to Blair with each hand until his lips were inches from the shell of her ear. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair; his close presence was like a drug rushing through her veins. She blinked slowly, almost swooning when his fingers reached out to stroke a loose curl that coiled across her neck. Trailing the pad of his thumb across the curve of her neck, he leaned into whisper in her ear, "Whatever shall we do with you, Blair?"

Try as she might Blair hadn't been able to forget his kisses and the gentle erotic pleasure of his lips on hers. As Lord Bass's eyes locked on her Blair blushed as his lips arranged themselves into a smirk. From the intense stare he was giving her she was sure that he knew exactly what she was thinking and she flushed even hotter.

Lord Bass wanted to wring her neck, truly he did, but when he was this close, touching her satiny skin was all he could think about. Staring into her eyes his mind focused on one thing; all the wicked things he wanted to do to her and with her.

Never before had he been so grateful for the Bow Street Runner, Mr. Finch, who he kept at his constant disposal. The thought of her here and without his protection made him sick to his stomach in a way that was foreign to him. Thankfully, Mr. Finch had caught Blair sneaking out the back door of her house and followed her. The man had proven himself infinitely helpful and deserved a raise for not only ferreting out Lord Archibald's financial problems, but for notifying him the minute Miss Waldorf stepped into Widow Firths.

While he had expected Miss Waldorf to try some crazy scheme, which was why he had sent the runner to watch her, he had never believed that she would risk ruining her reputation by visiting a gambling den.

"I believe this concludes the evening's entertainment," Chuck announced, rising fluidly from his chair and giving each man at the table a stern glance. "Next time, perhaps, you will think twice about who you decide to trifle with."

Not quite finished yet, Lord Bass leaned in close to Lord Baizen. His hand gripping his shoulder until the man winced in pain. Whispering harshly in his ear, his voice held a threat that Carter knew was not idle. "I will visit the most acute kind of torture, mental, physical, and financial on you if you ever dare breath a word of this evening. The lady is mine, and if I ever see you near her again you will lose more than a few guineas, perhaps, some fingers... It would only be just after the harm you have caused so many young gentlemen with your deceitful gambling practices."

Smiling malevolently, Lord Bass held out his arm to escort Blair from the card table as she hurriedly shoved coins into her silk reticule. Whispers followed them out as they made their way across the floor and towards the door. To Blair's discomfort Lord Bass walked nonchalantly like he hadn't a care in the world, like he hadn't just found her getting fleeced at a gambling establishment that appeared to masquerade as a bordello. With each step her stomach sank lower and lower to the floor until she thought she might be sick all over Lord Bass.

Finally they reached the entry and all it took was a nod from Lord Bass in the direction of the butler for his carriage to be brought around. Gripping her arm tightly, Chuck handed her up into his carriage making sure that even if she protested she had no other option but to ride home with him.

Blair squeezed as far against the carriage wall as possible hoping to avoid all contact with Lord Bass. Chuck was not deterred he merely climbed in as close as he could until their thighs were all but touching. Tapping his walking stick on the roof of the carriage Lord Bass signaled he was ready to depart.

"My Lord, I can explain—," Blair started stubbornly, only to be interrupted.

"I am certain that you can. The question is was it worth it?" Chuck asked wryly, a tinge of anger coloring his voice. His eyes glittered in the glow of the lantern light of the carriage.

"I didn't realize," she answered, in a small voice.

"Realized what? That you not only could have lost your money tonight, but worse? Of all the damnable things Miss Waldorf, I'm really disappointed in you. Not only did you gamble with your money, you gambled with your reputation and your future, to repay a debt I refuse to recognize." Lord Bass's voice was scarily calm. All traces of his normal humor removed, his light tone lost to his anger.

"That is the problem!" She cried, angrily. "This debt means everything to me. My honor is at stake."

"What honor? The one you so casually were willing to throw away on the Faro tables," he spat. "Or perhaps in one of the bedrooms upstairs with Lord Baizen."

At the mention of Lord Baizen a look of pure hatred crossed her face. "You couldn't possible understand. The Van der Woodsen's are counting on me." Her voice changed, becoming acerbic. "Do tell me, Your Grace what else could I do when you are holding a debt of twenty two hundred pounds over my head?"

Chuck pretended to consider the matter even though he wanted to shout out his answer. "You could let me take care of you," Chuck demanded.

"Do you have any shame. You are no worse than Lord Baizen. You would have me even further compromise my honor to be what? Your whore?" She asked, biting out the words.

"Blair," he rasped, the word a delicious caress that tingled up and down her spine. "I would never have you as my whore. You are worth so much more to me."

"I am worth nothing more to you than twenty two hundred pounds," Blair countered, denying the feelings he aroused in her, the very energy that lay in the air between them. She knew what they both felt was no longer about the debt, but it was her only coping mechanism for the danger that came with dealing with her own convoluted and scary emotions.

Chuck ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Then let's be done with this debt tonight. You won at least twice that amount at the tables."

"This money is not my money. It exists only because of you and because of it I once more I find myself in your debt. This is blood money earned in a place that feeds of the misfortunes of others. I won't accept a penny of it," she declared rebelliously.

"You foolish girl," he murmured softly. "You will surely be the death of me." He didn't bother to wait for an answer instead his lips swooped down to capture hers. Blair didn't even struggle. She had been dreaming of his kisses for days and now that his lips were on hers she lost herself in beautiful sensations.

And there it was again the yearning, the loss of breath, the fire that burned low in her belly. Tenderly, he kissed her, drawing first one plump lip and then the other into his mouth, his tongue stroking each one until she had no other desire but to open her mouth to him. Their mouths fused together, his tongue tentatively reaching out to tantalize and tease hers.

When Chuck finally raised his head it was to find Blair speechless, perhaps for the first time since they had met. His fingers traced a path over the curve of her cheek, sweeping over her high cheekbones and cupping her chin. Chuck looked deep into her eyes, as if reading her soul and what he saw made his breath hitch in his throat. Tipping her head up, he kissed her again and again until her body tingled everywhere with bliss. She fell against him in a whirlwind of desire, not even noticing that her fingers were twining in his hair and her body was pressed firmly to his, their hearts beating in unison. The faint taste of scotch in his mouth, the smell of clean linen, leather and the scent that was intoxicatingly Lord Bass sent her senses spinning. Just as she was about to lose her sanity, he abruptly stopped, his mouth releasing hers. With a small sound of dismay she leaned in to offer her lips to him once more, a portrait of innocent seduction.

"You would tempt the devil, Blair." His thumb slid slowly across her bottom lip in a caress. "If I were truly a rake I would take what you are offereing as payment right here and now, but ever since I have met you, I find myself almost acting a gentleman in your company. It is the most damning thing I have ever experienced." A strange spark of emotion flickered deep in his eyes.

Blair, with one steadying breath came crashing back to reality. "How dare you!" She beat at his chest with her fists like butterflies in midflight. "Only a truly depraved letch would force me to kiss him not once but twice."

Catching her gloved hands firmly in his hands, he brought each one up to his lips, kissing them reverently before allowing her to pull them away. "Judging by your response I don't believe there has ever been the need to have any force involved. I can't think when I have had a more delicious or willing partner, Blair," Chuck laughed, highly amused at her tantrum.

"You are despicable," Blair said icily, staring outside the small window of the carriage to the smoky and ever changing landscape. Shamed and bewildered, she tried to analyze her own behavior. Why hadn't she protested and pushed him away? Instead, she had kissed him back with a passion she hadn't known she possessed. How could a man, one she thought she despised, arouse such dizzying emotion within her breast that she could barely breathe, let alone think?

Blair turned to him, looking at him with all the sternness of a teacher to a pupil. "This will not be allowed to happen again, Lord Bass."

"Perhaps if you weren't so entirely adorable and you didn't kiss me back so exquisitely, I might be tempted to refrain," he replied, teasingly.

"I did not kiss you back," she huffed, lying through her teeth.

"Then that wasn't your tongue that—,"

"My Lord," She interrupted him, worry shadowing her eyes as her rented house came into view outside the carriage window. "Can you please drop me off at the back of the house," she pleaded.

"I am guessing Lady van der Woodsen doesn't know what mischief you were about tonight?"

"No, she doesn't I would appreciate it if you did not tell her." Blair glanced at him ashamedly, through her lashes. "She will only blame herself and it was entirely my fault."

"I have no doubt where the responsibility for this little adventure falls," Chuck said sardonically.

"Please, my Lord. Just don't tell my Aunt where I have been. I can make it worth your while." Her pouting red lips parted as she leaned in closer, in anticipation of a kiss she knew would surely be forthcoming. Her behavior both shocked and filled her with a new sense of wild exhilaration she had never known before.

He chuckled, giving her a devastatingly wicked smile. "Promise me there will be no more visits to gambling dens in your future?" Against his will Chuck found he couldn't help falling for her manipulations even though he recognized them for what they were.

"I promise," she vowed, solemnly her eyes holding his steadily.

Ever so gently her mouth grazed his and this time her tongue slid into his mouth. Adventurously she tasted and explored his mouth until a small sound, a groan and both a curse escaped his lips. She made a small moue of disappointment as his mouth once more pulled away from hers.

"If we continue like this, you will pay your debt in full tonight," he said reluctantly.

She couldn't believe the uncontrolled impulse that filled her. She wanted to kiss him until she was breathless, the world spinning beneath her feet and these emotions filled her with trepidation.

Tapping on the roof of the carriage with his walking stick, he called out. "Take the carriage around back. Will you accompany me for a drive tomorrow?" He asked, gallantly, more a demand than a question.

Blair gave him a long look, her eyes indecipherable. "I am afraid that is not possible. My afternoon is already compromised to the Comte de Loire."

"The man's driving is a menace to society," Chuck scoffed. "He will get you both killed".

"Then it is a good thing that we are going for a nature walk in the park." Blair said lightly.

"I wouldn't advise making a play for the Comte," Chuck said pleasantly, as if he didn't care one way or another.

"Why?" She turned to stare at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Because he is too much of a gentleman and much too nice for you." Chuck grinned impudently as he watched her face color in anger and her eyes flash, "You're no good for him at all."

"I can be perfectly nice when the gentleman is deserving," she retorted, glaring at him furiously. "What do you mean I'm not good for him?"

"Your brand of niceness would crucify him, leaving him a broken man cowering at your feet." He drawled, smirking at her. "As for being good enough for him, he isn't fit to worship at your feet."

Blair hesitated, her scathing reply halted by her confusion. Lord Bass had just complimented and insulted her all in the same breath and she wasn't sure if she should slap him or thank him.

Her decision was postponed as the carriage door snapped open and the driver waited patiently with his arm held out for Blair to step out.

"What time is our nature walk tomorrow?" Chuck asked slyly, eyeing her retreating form appreciatively.

Instead of answering she turned to face him, smiling pertly, almost challengingly as the carriage door was shut and the driver took the reins.

"Damn woman," he swore, as the carriage pulled away.

* * *

I apologize for the delay in updates, but I was on vacation. Now that I am back so you can expect updates to be posted more frequently.

Special thanks to my reviewers: Lalai, sweetshorti868, Izzles, KateKazoo, OpheliaFrost, puresimplicity-xo, SnowedUnderNJ, Salma, BrucasLoveX, Samantha, Liz, Edwardslover09, Kensley-Jackson, AndyPox, Bye11, XxScarlettPrincessxX, BenzPrincess, peckforever, writing in her own way, pam halliwell, Rusty, Tiffany Tam, Lai, , Abelard, dysenchanted2, uncorazonquebrado, SaturnineSunshine, jess, Madeleinex, CBIWBJ trory12, callmebluetoo, Kate2008, :D,Blood Red Kiss of Death, Lil Miss Chuckles and TriGemini.

Special thanks to Kate for editing this chapter.

According to my poll most of my readers want to read a carriage sex scene. If you haven't already done so please vote so I know whether heading in that direction would be acceptable.


	6. Chapter 6

Blair was so bored she wanted to stab herself with one of the sticks that littered the path of the walking trail at Hyde Park. Surrounded by towering oaks, moss and wildflowers it was hard to believe they were still located in London.

"Here is another example of fauna I would like to show you. It is very similar to what you would find in my homeland. As an amateur horticulturist…"

Smiling and nodding graciously Blair tuned the Comte out. Choosing instead to focus on his luxurious black curly hair and gentle eyes. She waited for her heart to skip a beat like it did when she looked at Lord Bass and to her extreme disappointment there was absolutely nothing. No feeling whatsoever. Her heart felt as still and empty as a dry riverbed.

Staring into his eyes she realized he was looking at her as if he was waiting for a response from her. Racking her brain she searched for something, anything that would sound like she was paying attention.

"How I love nature and all of its beauty," she gushed, even as she frowned and swatted some kind of insect that was intent on getting far too close.

"Miss Waldorf, I can't tell you how much it means to be able to share my love of flora and fauna with such a beautiful lady as yourself," the Comte said reaching down to pluck a few daisies. "Bellis Perennis, was a flower made for you, Miss Waldorf."

"A daisy, really?" Blair couldn't help the wrinkle that crossed her brow at being compared to the common daisy. Courteously she forced herself to accept his bouquet.

"Certainly," The Comte said regarding her studiously. "While you appear like any other young debutante you have within you hidden qualities that make you stand out above all the rest. Like this deceptively simple flower has healing properties that have long served the French Monarchy. In fact, we call it Marguerite in France and it is the emblem of several of our greatest queens."

"How boringly sedate. When I think of Miss Waldorf, only one flower comes to mind, the wild red Rosa Gallica." Chuck appeared through the foliage, walking stick swinging from his arm. Stooping to pick up a sample he proffered it to Miss Waldorf with a flourish.

Blair could hardly refuse to accept the floral offering. Adding them to her collection of daisies, she gave him a glacial look.

"Why, Lord Bass. What a pleasure," The Comte greeted, surprised coloring his voice. "I didn't know you were interested in horticulture?"

"I'm not," Chuck said lazily not bothering to explain further.

Blair searched for a distraction, finally pointing at a clump of something brown and green just up ahead. "Tell me, My Lord what kind of plant is that? It looks fascinating."

The Comte rushed over to examine the greenery, "Miss Waldorf I believe you have found Pteridophyta, quite an amazing plant."

"I'm sure it is, but not nearly amazing as the specimen right before me. The beautiful and lusty Miss Blair Waldorf," Chuck murmured in her ear.

Blair angrily smacked him with her bouquet. The poor things could not handle her brute force and they crumpled against Lord Bass's black suit coat, the petals littering the ground beneath. Lord Bass laughed as Blair looked at the fallen and beheaded daisies in horror, as they lay mixed within the battered but still whole wild roses.

"I told you daisies weren't your flower," Chuck said wickedly. "You're as prickly and as hard to grab hold of as a wild rose, but once plucked you're as soft and delicious—"

"What are you doing here," Blair interrupted, angrily.

Lord Bass, adjusted his top hat to a jaunty angle before replying. "I'm going with you. I can't think of anything more interesting or humorous than watching you compete with the weeds for the Comte's attention. Besides my horticultural education is truly abysmal. I hope to learn something."

"Go away!" Blair hissed, purposefully avoiding the arm Lord Bass held out as they approached a fallen log. Almost tripping over the piece of wood, Chuck reached out to grab a hold of Blair's waist, steadying her. He held her just a moment more than necessary his finger splaying over her tiny waist. He couldn't resist stroking her side softly with the edge of his thumb, smirking in pleasure when he felt her slight shiver. Imagining the soft skin beneath the silky garment he almost didn't notice the Comte's return. Blair immediately pulled herself as far away as possible from him on the narrow path, her hands smoothing her dress.

"Miss Waldorf, I apologize. I didn't even notice the log there. I am afraid I have failed at my gentlemanly duties." The Comte held out his arm for her, Blair quickly took it turning around to glare at Chuck.

"I wouldn't worry, Comte, I don't think it is possible for you to stop being a gentleman for even one second," Chuck replied sardonically, implying exactly what he thought of that.

"I should hope not," he said looking shocked at the very thought.

Blair couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. The Comte, while everything that was proper and prim didn't arouse the feelings that the Duke did. While she kept telling herself that the last thing she wanted was a marriage filled with passion and wild emotion she was very much afraid that her heart was overruling her head. The Comte was as dull as the log she had almost tripped on and she couldn't wait for their nature hike to be over. The thought of spending hours, let alone years in his company was enough to make her wish for an early death.

"Will you be joining us, Lord Bass?" The Comte de Loire asked politely.

Blair bit her tongue, smiling sweetly at the Comte. "I am sure Lord Bass has better things to do than dally with us all day."

"On the contrary, I can think of no better way to spend my day than to be taught by his Lordship," Chuck said with hardly a trace of sarcasm.

"Aren't there some cards or liquor that need your attention?" She asked snidely.

"I think that can wait until later," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps you will join me?"

Blair responded by rolling her eyes.

"Miss Waldorf, who are we to judge, the man clearly wants to learn," the Comte said nervously regarding Lord Bass and almost jumping when the Duke grinned widely at him. "We would be honored if you joined us, Lord Bass."

"Of course, you are right, your Lordship. Lord Bass truly is lucky to have such a capable and educated man as yourself to teach him about the wonders of nature," Blair simpered, ignoring Chucks's snort of derision.

The Comte pleased, continued his lecture until his droning began to resemble nothing more then the buzzing of a bee in Blair's ear. Bored she smiled and nodded at all the right places, steadfastly ignoring Chuck's subtle barbs and heated glances. Abruptly catching site of some wild and unique fungus Blair's partner dropped her arm to bend down and finger the plant.

"These plants are called Marchantiophyta or what we commonly refer to as liverworts. While they have been used to cure diseases of the liver they offer no help with warts or as the name would suggest liver warts. In fact there is no such thing as liver warts," he chuckled to himself. Reaching into his pocket the Comte de Loire pulled out a small leather bound book and pencil. "I really must make some drawings of this most lovely plant," he mumbled.

Rolling her eyes, Blair pushed past the Comte to lean against the only moss free tree she could find. There was no way Blair was going to risk staining her pale blue waking dress and pearl buttoned pelisse by letting it touch something slimy and green no matter how much it was loved by the Comte.

Chuck quickly took the opportunity to join her, leaning against the tree nonchalantly while at the same time ensuring he kept his pristine black waistcoat and trousers stain free.

Scanning the forested carpet beneath her feet, Blair's gaze caught on some lovely deep colored purple violets. "Beautiful," she murmured softly. The filtered light that crept through the branches of the trees ghosted across her face highlighting her dark eyes and soft red lips.

"Yes," Chuck observed, staring at her face and not the violets at her feet.

Uneasy, Blair continued to gaze at the delicate blooms. Already her blood was heating in her veins and she was afraid that if she looked at Lord Bass directly that she would be in his arms once more, drowning willingly in his kisses.

"I am thinking you if you don't wish to die of boredom you should try to be a bit more discriminating in the company you keep," Chuck said dryly, nodding in the direction of the Comte.

"I'm trying, Lord Bass," Blair replied, with sarcasm giving him a pointed look.

"Touché, Miss Waldorf." A slow smiled curved his lips. "This one is mad enough he would take a plant to bed if he could."

"Isn't that like the pot calling the kettle black, My Lord? Haven't you visited furniture recently with a certain trollop?" Blair asked, tartly.

"Jealous, Blair?" Chuck asked, his voice deep and husky.

"Certainly not!" She sniffed haughtily, coloring slightly at the suggestion. "And how many times do I have to remind you it's, Miss Waldorf?"

"Every hour of every day, until only Chuck and Blair exist for you." His eyes darkened, hypnotic and mesmerizing drawing her into their depths until Blair almost forgot to breathe. "Let's put an end to this situation, shall we? Judging by your kisses I know you aren't indifferent to me. And after your wild passionate response last night it is even more surprising that you are still a maiden. "

"Lord Bass," Blair hissed, "the Comte is right there." She gestured wildly at the gentleman who was wholly absorbed in his sketching.

"The man is practically making love to his plants. He wouldn't notice if God himself appeared before him." Chuck reached out his gloved hand, cradling the side of her face, his thumb running intimately across her lips. Blair found herself against her will leaning in to his touch, her heart thrilling at his tenderness. "If your honor so desperately demands repayment of your debt, that can easily be remedied in our marriage bed."

Blair exhaled sharply at his bluntness. What she had suspected deep within the confines of her heart was finally confirmed. His pursuit of her was no longer about a debt; it was terrifyingly about her heart, her body and her soul. Overwhelmed with emotion she abruptly turned to leave, stumbling as her foot caught in some tangled undergrowth. Falling down in a frothy pile of lace edged layers, Blair sat surrounded in silk. Shakily she grasped her ankle, tenderly poking at it, only to cry in pain when her fingertips encountered an already swelling bump.

"Blair!" Chuck shouted, immediately kneeling at her feet.

"Oh, dear. Miss Waldorf, whatever happened?" The Comte rushed to her side, stopping short of joining Chuck on the ground.

"What do you think happened, you gudgeon? Open your eyes, Miss Waldorf has clearly fallen and injured her ankle," Lord Bass barked. Hitching up her skirt, Chuck ran his fingers over the buttons of her leather-clad shoe.

The Comte de Loire gasped, "Lord Bass, this is highly inappropriate."

"Don't touch me," Blair protested violently as Chuck fingers freed the buttons of her shoe from their holes. It was the first time a man had ever touched her leg. He held her foot tightly in his hands as Blair attempted to jerk her foot back. Lord Bass didn't loosen his grip, forcing Blair in order to retain her balance to grip his shoulder. His shoulder was hard and strong; his coat unpadded unlike most the gentlemen of her acquaintance. There was no fake padding or overstuffed clothes where Lord Bass was concerned. He dressed with a style that was of daring simplicity and one that was entirely his own. Her fingers clawed at him in pain as he ripped of the shoe and his hands smoothed over the silk stocking clad bones of her foot.

"What would you have me do, Comte? Leave her here in pain while we fetch a doctor so she can preserve the modesty of her ankle?" Chuck said with an acid tone.

"Yes, exactly." The man's brow furrowed in worry. "Nothing must be done to compromise or blight Miss Waldorf's honor or she will no longer be accepted as marriageable. She will become damaged goods."

"Damnation! Only you and your rattle-headed friends would come to such a conclusion." Chuck shot a glare at the Comte de Loire that made him quiver and shake in his shoes. "God only knows what you would think if I kissed her? Would that ruin her as well for you?"

"Surely you jest, My Lord. You must realize if you did that there is no way I could marry her," he replied, weakly and sweating profusely. "

Chuck turned his wicked gaze on Blair, searching her eyes for a sign. With a simple kiss this whole farce could be ended and the Comte would be out of her life for good. Her eyes, clouded over in pain gave no clues. Sighing, he continued his examination of her ankle.

"It isn't broken, just a bad sprain," Chuck said to Blair's relief. I think perhaps I should carry you back to the carriage. You shouldn't put any weight on this if you want to be dancing in a few days."

"Miss Waldorf, I can no longer in good conscious watch this display. I shall divert my eyes until your shoe is replaced." Having made his pronouncement the Comte turned his back on the couple. "If Lord Bass touches you in any way that is inappropriate I can promise there will be a reckoning," he announced bravely with a slight quiver in his voice.

"I'd like to see you try," Chuck said grimly.

"Just put the shoe back on." Blair gasped, as his fingers began to massage the sensitive instep of her foot. His hand glided further up her leg to pluck and pull bits of grass and weeds that had stuck to her stocking. Her hands swatted at his as if they were pesky flies, only to be ignored as he once more slid her shoe back on. Only this time he avoided the pearl buttons, leaving them loose to offer comfort to her now swollen ankle. While he worked Blair stared at the back of his head where the locks of his hair had been combed down stiffly to keep from waving.

"My, Cinderella," he said, his eyes twinkling at her slyly.

"Just be quick, My Lord. If you touch me one moment longer the Comte is likely to die of apoplexy and then I will never have my chance to lure him into marriage," she said in an aggrieved tone.

"Shall we insult his delicate sensibilities?" he asked with a playful air. "Perhaps give him a show to remember?"

"Are you insane?" Her eyes widened in mortification as they darted from Chuck to the Comte and back to Chuck again.

"Kiss me, Blair." Chuck said in a deadly serious tone.

"Behave yourself," she said sharply, pulling her skirts down over her ankle.

"Believe me, I am trying," he sighed, giving her a roguish look. "I have never before waited as patiently as I am waiting for you. "

"You will have to wait until Doomsday if you expect another kiss from me," Blair said waspishly as she attempted to pull herself to her feet.

"I don't think so. Does your plant obsessed gentleman know how you spent last night? The cards at Widow Firths? The way you so seductively exchanged a kiss for my keeping quiet about your activities? I think the Comte needs to know the real Miss Blair Waldorf."

"Will you be quiet? He will overhear you," Blair whispered harshly, grasping unto Chuck's arm as she attempted to balance on her sore foot.

"Is everything thing alright, Miss Waldorf." The Comte de Loire called out.

"Just fine, Your Lordship. Give me another minute to fix my dress and then you can escort me to the carriage," Blair said, her tone filled with honey. "What will it take to keep you silent?" She murmured, her lips hovering inches from his ear.

Lord Bass pretended to be shocked by her honesty. "Where is your tact, your exquisite ladylike behavior Miss Waldorf?"

"I don't have time for your games. It is obvious you expect some kind of reward or inducement for your silence. What will you take for a bribe this time?"

Lord Bass shuddered, as his eyes mocked her. "I think bribe is such an ugly word, don't you?"

"Fine, call it blackmail than." She replied, shortly.

"Blackmail it is." Chuck grinned at her like the cat that has swallowed the canary. "I am sure you might find something to offer that I might want?"

Blair gulped, her fingers trembling where they clutched Lord Bass's coat clad arm. "A dance?" she asked, hesitantly.

"I think we are way beyond dances, Miss Waldorf," Chuck said laughter gleaming in his eyes. "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

"Another kiss?" Blair asked, faking boredom even though her chest was filled with wild anticipation.

Chuck held up three fingers, his eyes watching her with fascination.

"One?" Blair bargained, as her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of three kisses in a row.

"Three." Chuck replied firmly.

"Fine," she grumbled. "The where and when are to be determined by me. I will not be compromised further by having to be forced to kiss you in public."

"Lady's choice," he agreed, his voice smooth as silk. "I am looking forward to finding you lurking for me in all types of corners and shadows eager to bestow your affections on me." Chuck smirked at her wickedly. "Perhaps you will realize that your ambitions lay more towards becoming a Duchess than a Comtesse."

"No, my sole ambition is to become the Comtesse de Loire," Blair provoked sweetly, hoping to have the satisfaction of wiping the confident smirk from Lord Bass's face.

Instead he only grinned lecherously at her. "That would be a mistake for both you and the Comte. With your reckless passion and his frigidity you would end up in my bed desperate for the satisfaction he isn't capable of giving you."

Blair shoved Lord Bass in the chest taking pleasure in seeing him flounder to catch his balance. Instead of reacting angrily he only stared at her in smug delight at having provoked such a strong reaction.

"Let me carry you. You won't get far on that ankle."

"I can walk just fine," Blair said primly, taking a step. Teetering for just a moment on one foot before she fell to her knees with a groan.

"That is what I thought," Chuck said. Bending his arms carefully around Blair's knees he lifted her into his strong arms. Ignoring her kicks and struggles he cradled her gently against his chest.

Turning around the Comte mouth fell open in shock at the site of Lord Bass carrying Miss Waldorf. "Lord Bass, really, this is so improper I am speechless."

"If you were truly speechless you wouldn't be speaking," Chuck said with sarcasm.

The Comte gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing until his speech returned. "Surely you aren't going to carry Miss Waldorf all the way back to the carriage? It is a quarter of a mile at the least."

"Are you insinuating that Miss Waldorf is somehow heavier than air? How very insulting of you, Comte," Chuck said smugly.

"No, of course not…that isn't what I meant at all," he sputtered.

Blair gave up fighting, resting her head against his chest her arms somehow found themselves wrapping around his neck. Her fingertips brushed against the ends of his hair that laid against the back of his neck. Nestling close to him she felt safe and secure for the first time in years. Listening to the comforting thumping of his heart she was lulled into an almost pain free trance.

Minutes later they had arrived at Lord Bass's carriage. He didn't even bother to ask Blair's permission to drive her home and she didn't even bother to protest. Lifting her gently into his curricle as if she was spun glass, Chuck tucked her into the seat. With a groan she situated her sore ankle at an angle that caused her the least amount of pain as Chuck climbed into the drivers side.

"Miss Waldorf, I will meet you at your house," the Comte shouted out as Chuck flicked the reins of his horses leaving the other man in a cloud of dust.

"I hadn't realized you had such a chivalrous side," Blair said through gritted teeth as pain shot through her foot.

"There is a lot you don't know about me." Chuck turned his gaze to her, giving her a smoldering look.

"I didn't think it was possible," Blair murmured. "When I first met you I thought you were a rake of the worse kind."

"Not a rake, more like a scoundrel," Chuck said, a gleam of laughter in his eyes.

"I think you manage to fill both roles." Blair bit her lips as she fought the pain that was attempting to consume her.

"Only with you," Chuck smirked.

Blair ignored his comment, instead asking what was foremost on her mind. "Why are you being so kind to me?" She hesitated, "I haven't exactly been the nicest to you."

"I have a very keen interest in keeping you healthy. When we are alone together all I can think about is kissing you and making you mine." His voice deepened becoming low and seductive. "I have never felt that way about anyone, Blair."

In that moment Blair forgot everything, her pain disappearing in a cloud of elation. Lost in her thoughts she hardly noticed they had arrived at her door. Handing the reins to the footman, Chuck lifted Blair once more into his arms. Like a child she cocooned herself in his embrace, her body fitting perfectly against his as he carried her through the front door.

Lady van der Woodsen and Serena bustled around them as Lord Bass answered their questions. Serena watched in wide-eyes wonder at the amazing scene before her. Blair looked like she belonged in Lord Bass's arms, like she was perfectly happy and at peace for the first time in her life. Clearing off a nearby chaise lounge, Lily gazed worriedly at Blair as Chuck laid her down gently, tenderly.

Finally arriving, the Comte stood apart from the crowd feeling like an intruder and completely useless. With shock he realized that Lord Bass was not only kneeling by Miss Waldorf he was holding her hand, his fingers tightly entwined in hers.

Lady van der Woodsen's quick eye missed nothing and she smiled widely. She couldn't have been more pleased with the way the situation was currently playing out.

The Comte cleared his throat loudly, the unexpected noise waking Blair from her dream like state and with a jerk she guiltily pulled her hand away from Lord Bass.

Lord Bass took no offense to her reaction, choosing to take the opportunity to remove her boot. His eyes lingered over the sore foot, his fingers nimbly running over the stocking as he searched once more for broken bones.

"It appears to be a very bad sprain, Lady van der Woodsen. Perhaps you should call the doctor just to make sure," Chuck said with concern.

"Yes, of course, Lord Bass. Thank you so much for your help and kindness." Lily started for the door, hesitating as she brushed past the Comte.

"My Lord, perhaps you would be so good as to come with me to fetch a brandy for Miss Waldorf".

"Surely you aren't encouraging Miss Waldorf to imbibe spirits?" he asked, surprised.

Lady van der Woodsen looked at him with barely hidden irritation. "Just this once I think we can loosen the restrictions. Miss Waldorf is in a great deal of pain and to withhold any type of comfort to ease it is cruel and unusual punishment, indeed."

The Comte cocked his head, considering the manner. "I suppose in this situation it would be considered appropriate." Offering his arm, he whispered loudly, "But surely you shouldn't leave Miss Waldorf un-chaperoned with Lord Bass. I fear his interest in Miss Waldorf is not respectable in the least."

"You are hardly suggesting that Lady Serena is so unfit as a chaperone as to allow me to ravish her cousin right in front of her?" Chuck shot the Comte a look of pure hatred, one that left the other man stumbling over his feet.

"Surely not, surely not, my Lord. Lady Serena is most capable of chaperoning," he said weakly. Lady van der Woodsen having had quite enough, pulled the Comte through the entry and towards the small salon.

To Blair's shock and consternation, Lord Bass, without hesitation reached up her skirts, his hands stopping at her garter.

Blair pushed at his hands, shocked at his presumption. "My Lord! Get your hands off me! Serena stop him," she cried.

"I would advise Lady Serena to stay where she is. I am merely removing your stocking. Keeping it on will only make the swelling worse," Chuck explained, his eyes twinkling with mischief as they roved over Blair's shapely legs.

Serena rushed to Blair's side, yanking her skirt down. "Lord Bass, I will hardly sit by and let you attack my cousin right in front of me.

"Rest easy, Lady Serena. If I were planning to debauch Miss Waldorf I would not do so in front of you. Plus, as an expert ravisher I would require at a minimum several hours to do the job properly," he jested, smirking at Blair.

Leisurely he thumbed the silk ribbon of her garter, sliding a finger underneath to run against her soft skin. Blair squirmed beneath him, his touch igniting a fire in the very marrow of her bones. With one quick movement, the ribbon was untied the ends flicking like snakes around her knee. Letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, Blair caught and held Chuck's eyes. Serena stood amazed as she watched something secret and intense pass between them. Something she couldn't begin to understand.

Slowly inch-by-inch Chuck rolled down her stocking, his fingers caressing the delicate skin underneath. With a long shuddering sigh Blair watched the progress, her skin flaring white hot under his touch. Inch by inch his fingers traced their way down her leg and with every step her pain was forgotten, replaced by pleasure. Her stocking, now an empty silk cocoon curled around her foot as Chuck gently pulled it off.

At the approaching sounds of footsteps, Blair hastily smoothed her skirts, attempting to hide all evidence of where Lord Bass's hands had just been. Pasting a smile on her face she accepted the glass of brandy that Lily offered. Taking a small sip, she coughed as the alcohol burned a path down her throat. Sputtering she waited for her stomach to settle before turning to look at the Comte who stood at attention near the doorway.

"Comte de Loire, I am so very sorry that our outing ended so abruptly. Please tell me you will do me the honor of re-scheduling for another day and time?" she asked, politely.

"The devil you will," Lord Bass swore. His jaw hardened as he gave Blair a stern look.

"I believe Miss Waldorf can speak for herself," The Comte replied, drawing his eyebrows together haughtily.

"I don't think my niece will be doing any physical activity any time soon," Lady van der Woodsen interjected, attempting to maintain the peace. Glancing at Blair she couldn't help but notice Blair's pallor and overly bright eyes. "She needs rest and I think it is time both you gentleman took your leave. The doctor will be here soon and the last thing he needs is more people to interfere with his diagnosis.

Lord Bass looked as if he might protest, but catching the seriousness in Lady Waldorf's tone he chose to hold his tongue.

"Of course, Lady van der Woodsen. I should have realized earlier. Forgive me Miss Waldorf?" The Comte apologized, gazing at her in appeal.

"There is nothing to apologize for my Lord," Blair answered courteously, shuddering as she drained the last of the brandy.

With a couple of steps he was at her side, bestowing a dry papery kiss to her hand. Biting the inside of her lip, Blair tried not to pull away from him.

"Please keep me updated on Miss Waldorf's condition," the Comte said to Lady van der Woodsen as he took his leave.

Nodding agreeably Lily stared at Lord Bass pointedly.

"Miss Waldorf, would you prefer me to stay? Lord Bass's voice was gentle, his eyes entreating her to let him remain.

Blair wanted more than anything for him to stay. His mere presence for some reason, instead of infuriating her like normal, calmed her.

"You should leave," she finally replied. She needed time to think about this change in her feelings, the way her heart burned in her chest every time he looked at her. "Please," she added as a stubborn look etched itself into his features.

Peering at her intently, awareness flooded him as he observed the sudden warmth shining in her eyes. He wasn't sure how, but he had made incredible progress with her today. Progress that filled him with exhilaration, made him feel as if he had conquered the world in a matter of hours.

Under Lady van der Woodsen's watchful eye, his large hand gently lifted her fingertips to his lips. The lightest touch of his warm mouth sent a shiver up her arm and down her spine. His kiss was everything the Comte's wasn't, and it sang through her veins and left her craving his mouth on hers in the most wanton of ways. Watching him leave through heavy lidded eyes she couldn't help feeling like he was taking a part of her with him. Slowly her fingertips strayed to her lips as if by touch she might transfer the kiss that still lingered there. The look of pure yearning in Blair's face did not pass unnoticed by Lady van der Woodsen. As much as Lily hated to see her adopted daughter hurt she couldn't feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. From the looks of things it would only be a small matter of time now before Blair became a Duchess.

* * *

Once again I apologize for deleting the story. I do plan on finishing the story. I have already started on the next chapter. I hope I haven't lost any of my readers.

Thanks to my wonderful readers: uncorazonquebrado, LauraCeleste, sweetshorti868, fOUZIA, , kissingintherainxx, Bye11, abelard, thegoodgossipgirl, Salma, hippysheep, Venetia Carianna, SaturnineSunshine, ggxoxo, Kensley-Jackson, peckforever, Tiffany Tam, BrucasLoveX, KateKazoo, chole92, Samantha, Edwardslover09, Su, CBIWBJ trory12, samuraigurl1213, pam halliwell, Kate2008, TriGemini, puresimplicity-xo, tiffany, XxScarlettPrincessxX, Lil Miss Chuckles and Blood Red Kiss of Death. Without your encouragement I would have given up long ago.

Thanks to my marvelous beta, Kate Finn.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as word spread that Miss Waldorf had hurt her ankle, bouquets began arriving by the dozens at their London townhouse. Followed by fruit baskets, books and an endless amount of small trinkets whose givers hoped would earn them favor with the ton's newest sensation.

Kept at home from all the latest dances, balls and fetes Blair had spent the last few days' in bed feeling sorry for herself. It was with a groan that she buried herself further into her pillow as Serena strolled cheerily into her bedroom, throwing open the curtains and flooding the room with afternoon light.

"You have a visitor," Serena cried out gaily in a singsong voice.

"They can go to the devil," Blair complained, rolling over in bed and pulling the covers tighter over her head.

"Blair Waldorf, such language," Serena laughed, not taking offense in the least. "You better not let the Comte hear such pearls falling from your mouth. You will shock him all the way back to France." Climbing into bed she yanked the covers off her cousin and climbed in next to her.

"It might do him good to be shocked," Blair grumbled, pulling the blankets back around her neck and tucking her and Serena in the bed.

"How can you talk so about your beloved?" Serena asked, fluttering her eyelashes at her cousin and giving her silly look.

Blair couldn't help the smile that spread across her face, threatening her gloomy disposition and driving it away. "He is not my beloved," she said dismissively. "Although he did send me that book on French horticulture." Her voice took on a calculating manner as she looked at the smile pile of gifts that adorned her dressing table.

"He did." Serena agreed. "Not quite a lover's gift though, is it."

"For him I think it is close to a proposal." Blair wrinkled her nose in distaste. "The man is truly crazy about his plants. If it is him whose come to see me tell him I am not feeling well enough to come down." Blair wasn't lying. Having spent the last few days in a grumpy haze the thought of having to listen to his pompous platitudes was enough to make her ill.

"So are you to be discriminatory in who exactly is worthy enough to rouse you from bed today?" Serena asked slyly.

"Not really," Blair sighed. "I don't want to see anyone. No matter who it is waiting downstairs for me."

"Not even Lord Bass?"

Blair blinked at Serena, her eyes wide and sparkling. "Why didn't you say it was him that was here?" Climbing out of bed, she hobbled over to the wardrobe, careful not to put to much weight on her swollen ankle and began pulling out dresses.

"I thought you didn't want to see anyone?" Serena teased, enjoying every minute of seeing her cousin worked up by the thought of seeing a certain Lord.

"Lord Bass is not just anyone. He is a peer of the realm, a Duke and a confidant of His Highness the Prince of Wales."

"Really? Here I just thought he was a rake," Serena joked.

"No, really more of a scoundrel," Blair said softly with a secret smile in her eyes.

Serena looked at Blair perplexed, but when no explanation was forthcoming she shrugged her shoulders and joined Blair by the wardrobe. "He wants to take you driving so maybe the sprigged muslin and the scarlet pelisse?"

Blair cocked her head to one side, thinking it over briefly. "Perfect. It is demure in that the gown is in a shade of white and yet the red says I am not as innocent or sedate as I look," Blair said with pleasure.

"Sedate and innocent? Miss Blair Waldorf? I think it is a little too late to pull the wool over Lord Bass's eyes. He already knows you are anything but," Serena chortled.

Blair pouted, stepping into the gown and pulling her arms through the sleeves. "I can be sweet and innocent."

"And as prickly as a hedgehog," Serena stated honestly, her tone light and full of laughter.

"True," Blair replied ruefully, frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

Serena met her eyes in the mirror, and sensing her sudden insecurities gave her an impulsive hug. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. Lord Bass likes what he sees, prickles and all. In fact, I would venture to say it was the prickles he likes the most."

Blair smiled at her cousin gratefully. "He is no gentleman himself, so perhaps together we are a good match."

"If I might ask what brings about this strange change of heart about Lord Bass?"

Blair hesitated, "As much as it pains me to admit it, if it wasn't for him, I would still be stranded in Hyde Park waiting for a doctor."

Not happy with her answer, Serena continued to prod. Sitting back on the bed she watched as Blair combed and styled her curls to fit perfectly in her straw chip hat. "So all this beautification is just because the man can carry you to a carriage and diagnose a sprained ankle?"

"No," Blair said simply, stopping her administrations and setting her hairbrush down. Turning she faced Serena, her forehead wrinkling in thought. "Chuck…," she started, only to flush hotly as the blonde burst into laughter. Ignoring her cousin she tried to continue, pursing her lips as she thought further on the matter. "Lord Bass is wealthy and as a Duchess there is little that would be denied me," she finished lamely.

"Oh, B." Serena said laughter still caught in her throat. "If that is what you have to tell yourself to justify the fact that you are partial to him that is fine. But I know and you know there is much more to it than that. There is something between the two of you that seems to make the air vibrate," Serena said with passion, a romantic look crossing her face.

"Air vibrate? Ridiculous nonsense," Blair said, looking quite pleased with herself as she seated herself next to Serena on the bed.

"It is true," Serena insisted, staring at Blair pointedly. "Even if you won't admit it."

Blair avoided Serena's eyes, easily sidestepping Serena's comment as she found a welcome distraction in smoothing out non-existent wrinkles from her gown. "Would you mind horribly calling the footman to help me down the stairs?" Blair asked evasively.

"No need," Serena said her eyes dancing with mischievousness. "Lord Bass is waiting outside to take you downstairs."

"What? How could you?" Blair squeaked, throwing one of the feather bolsters from the bed at her.

Serena laughed gaily, catching the bolster in one hand and tossing it to the ground. "It wasn't my choice. He made it clear that if I couldn't convince you to come downstairs he would."

"What did Aunt Lily say?" Blair asked, looking mortified.

"That 'she had spent more than enough time sulking in your room and if I couldn't rouse her' she might as well let Lord Bass have a try'," Serena said sternly, in her best imitation of Lily's voice.

"Serena, you could have ruined me by letting him in." Blair said, horrified.

"And made you a duchess in the process? How absolutely dreadful," Serena said playfully, sticking her tongue out at her cousin. Walking to the door she stuck her head out to shout down the corridor. "Lord Bass, you can come up now."

Blair flushed bright red as she heard the Duke's footsteps lazily striding through the hallway. Standing upright she attempted to navigate her way to the doorway, limping slightly on her poor ankle, only to trip and fall on the edge of her bedroom rug. Halfway to the floor she was caught just as she was about to hit the floor by a pair of strong and powerful arms.

"Falling at my feet already, Miss Waldorf?" Lord Bass teased, in a deep rumbling voice.

"Absolutely not," Blair huffed at him, even as she sank gratefully into his arms. Even though she had spent a small amount of time each day on her ankle she still didn't have the strength to be on her sore foot for any length of time.

"Invalidism suits you, Miss Waldorf. You are just as lovely as I remember," Chuck murmured, his lips inches from her ear.

"And you are just as impertinent as I remember," Blair said with a shortness of breath as the curves of her body settled comfortably against the hard lines of his chest. She swallowed hard as his very nearness reminded her of all the fairytale dreams she had had of him ever since that day in the woods. Head spinning and heart pounding she tried not to recall the latest dreams where his lips had possessed hers until she thought she might faint with pleasure.

Chuck only chuckled in response as he carried her as if she was as light as a feather through the entire house, stopping only to greet Lady van der Woodsen.

"Blair, so nice to see you out and about," Aunt Lily greeted, smiling at her niece beatifically.

Blair stared at her aunt balefully. "It wasn't as if I had a choice."

"Yes, well. You have spent enough time wallowing in the sulks. A drive in Lord Bass's curricle is exactly what you need to change your disposition and put roses back in your cheeks," Lady van der Woodsen replied with affection. She had had quite enough of her niece moping and if she knew Blair at all, she knew that Lord Bass' attention was exactly what she needed to pull herself out of her mopes.

"Have a nice time," Lily called out gaily as Lord Bass lifted Blair up into his carriage.

Seating her gently in the leather-padded seat, Lord Bass grinned at her widely before climbing into the curricle himself.

"It must be nice to be so very much loved by your family that they are willing to risk your wrath," Chuck said.

Blair stopped to consider the matter her irritation quickly dissipating as she realized that what Lord Bass spoke was true.

"I am very lucky. Without the van der Woodsen's offer to take me in when my parents died I don't know what I would have done. It is why I have gone to such great lengths to protect them."

"Hence the money lending scheme," Chuck said gravely, his lips twisting into a smile.

"Exactly," Blair said nodding her head.

"I must admit that I will forever be grateful for your ninny-hammered idea since it led you directly to me," Chuck said in a deep and dusky tone.

Blair stared at him, her eyes softening into giant liquid pools.

"I have come to a decision, Blair." He announced, a devilish look in his eyes.

As her name on his lips made a tiny glow travel from her toes to her fingertips she didn't bother to correct him.

"I believe I have been going about this courting business the wrong way in regards to wooing your heart. From now on I shall endeavor to behave as gentlemanly as the Comte de Loire," he said placidly as if he was discussing the weather.

"You shall?" Blair asked plaintively, trying to keep her disappointment at bay.

"I am putting you in charge of our future. From now on all kissing, all marriage discussion shall be put forth at your discretion. I have chased you long enough now it is your turn."

Blair stared at him forlornly, her eyes huge with disappointment as her heart sank to her feet. She desperately wanted to tell him to kiss her, tease her, be the scoundrel she knew him to be, but instead she stayed silent.

"I see," she replied, in a small voice.

Chuck glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, thrilled at the sight that greeted him. He had hoped and prayed she wouldn't be indifferent to him and now he had his answer. All he had to do now was wait for her to come to him, prove that he was what she really wanted and he would be hers. A heart like Blair's once won was worth the wait. It was a truly precious gift that he would spend years making himself worthy of.

Pulling the carriage up short at the corner of Bond Street Chuck reached into his pocket to draw out a slender thin box.

"I realize you have no doubt received numerous gifts and tributes since your removal from society while your ankle healed, but I have something for you that I didn't send over with the flowers. I wanted to give it to you in person," Chuck said watching her with amusement.

"I loved them," she gushed. "The flowers I mean." And she had. Every day at 11 a.m. he had sent a bouquet, each one more lavish than the last. From roses to hydrangeas, to the priceless exotic orchids that had arrived this morning in a paper-thin porcelain vase. It had gotten to the point that she had begun counting the minutes until 11:00 in the morning just to see what exquisite flowers he would send next.

Skillfully handling the reins, Chuck handed over the box. Keeping his eyes on the road he spared a quick glance at her, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

Carefully, Blair untangled the lavender ribbons that held the box together. Only to gasp when she finally opened the box. Nestled in velvet was an ivory hand painted fan. Drawing out the fan she spread the ivory handled sticks, cooing in delight at the beautiful paintings that adorned the silk. Exquisite butterflies in various states of flight in all the colors of the rainbow greeted her. She had never seen the like of it anywhere. While the gift pushed the grounds of propriety a bit, as a ladies trifle it was still considered acceptable. She had no doubt that Lord Bass had spent far more that what was considered proper, but she wasn't going to complain.

"Thank you. It's perfect," she said with delight and promptly put the gift into action. Chuck smiled with pleasure, as he watched the small tendrils of curls around her face bounce and sway with the movement of the fan. He had wanted to buy her so much more. Shower her with diamonds worthy of her beauty, emeralds that flashed like her wit and sapphires that glowed like her eyes. Instead he had been forced to settle with a gift that even while it skirted the guidelines was still considered acceptable.

"You're welcome, Blair," he said his tone a gentle heated caress that brought color to her cheeks. "As much I have desired your company, there is another reason I sought it today. A topic of outmost importance," he said teasingly.

"Really," Blair said nonchalantly, pretending disinterest as her fingers stroked the smooth ivory edges of the fan.

"Lord Archibald has charged me to speak on his behalf."

"What about? Whether Serena's hair is like spun gold or sunshine?" Blair asked sarcastically.

"I see you read Lord Archibald's poem to Serena," Chuck said laughingly.

Blair snickered, "Did you read that thing? It was truly horrifying. Twelve stanzas all written to the beauty of Serena's hair. What is it with young Lords and their need to show their affection through poetry?"

"It is the only acceptable way for them to show their appreciation of a young ladies charms in a non-physical way. I, however, find that unsuspecting kisses in alleyways are a much better expression of admiration," Chuck teased.

"Perhaps you, My Lord, would find the object of your admiration more amenable to poetry then public assault in broad daylight," Blair retorted, her heart skipping a beat as she recalled their first kiss.

"I don't remember you complaining, Blair." Chuck said, grinning as once more her cheeks were stained with color.

"Have you considered you might get further with your wooing if you wrote a poem or two. It is, after all, the gentlemanly thing to do," Blair teased.

"Is that what it would take to make you my bride? Then by all means I shall write one to all of your lovely assets. Maybe the way your dress fits so tightly across your—"

"Perhaps a poem is not suitable at all," Blair interrupted hastily.

"I dare say it is not," Chuck said mockingly. "Especially, since all I know how to write are very inappropriate limericks."

"I think you should stick to inopportune innuendos, Your Grace. You seem to have a talent for them," Blair said disapprovingly.

"Maybe you are right," Chuck sighed, his eyes dancing at her in delight. "Anyway, as delightful, no doubt, as it would be to discuss Lord Archibald's poem in length I find myself tasked with an all together different duty."

"Someone trusted you with anything other than cards, wine and women? I am truly shocked," Blair said sarcastically.

Chuck grinned at her with adoration. "Funnily enough, Lord Archibald seems to think that I am gentlemanly enough material that I can put aside my vices long enough to ask you for your consent to his offer of marriage to Lady van der Woodsen."

"Oh, I see," Blair said thoughtfully, considering the matter. While part of her was thrilled for Serena's sake there was a small guilty part of her that felt restless and unsettled. Serena's future was as beautiful and as wrapped up with love as a Christmas present while hers was a complicated mess made only more so by her debt and a traitorous heart that only longed for kisses from one certain Lord.

"Do you have any objections to his suit?" Chuck asked worriedly, knowing his best friends future was at stake.

"Why is he asking for my permission when he should be asking my cousin's," Blair snapped. "I have no say on who she decides to marry."

"If you truly believe that, Blair, you are a fool." Chuck said sharply. "It is obvious to everyone that Serena loves you and your opinion matters more to her than anyone else's. Without your blessing she will never marry Lord Archibald and that would be a damn shame."

Blair sighed, "I know. As much as I am loath to admit it, they are the perfect love match. I had hoped to aim higher for her, perhaps a count or a marquis, but her heart seems to have chosen over her head."

Chuck caught and held her gaze, his eyes compelling and magnetic seeming to penetrate to the very depths of her soul. "Perhaps that is what love is, the heart finally overruling the head. Have you looked into your heart lately, Blair?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Lord Bass," Blair replied, tossing her head in defiance. "My heart is as untouched as the pure driven snow and that is the way it will remain." Blair lied, as she turned her gaze from his, afraid that if he looked too closely he would see her heart shining in her eyes.

"Is it now?" Chuck drawled, pleased at what he saw hidden in the depths of her eyes.

Blair folded her hands primly before her, avoiding looking at Chuck. "Tell Lord Archibald he risks no opposition from me. He need only make his intentions known to my aunt and Serena will be his."

"Thank you, Blair," Chuck said softly. So engrossed was he in watching the play of light over her mahogany curls he almost hit another curricle that was paused in the middle of the road. There was barely room for him to pass and giving all his attention to his horses, he failed to notice the yelp of a small bulldog or the beating his master was giving him.

"My Lord, stop the carriage!" Blair shouted her curls flying as she whipped her head around and rose to her feet.

Chuck swore, pulling up on the reins as he tried to maneuver the horses around the stalled carriage. Blair did not wait for the curricle to stop as it slowed she limped down to confront the large and red-faced man dressed in the height of fashion.

"Stop at once," she cried, out to the brutish lout. Kneeling down in front of the man she patted the frightened bulldogs ears. "You poor handsome dear," she cooed oblivious to the man hulking over her angrily.

Lord Bass wrestled to control his horses, his hands tightening over the reins in an iron grip. "Go to their heads," he shouted, at his groom who stood dumfounded at the site of a young lady of quality kneeling in the dirt in front of a dog. With a start he jumped down and grabbed the horses heads allowing Lord Bass to grab his walking stick and jump down from the curricle.

"I say, Sir. Get your harlot out of here and away from my dog before I wallop her," the man yelled at Lord Bass, spittle spraying from his mouth.

"I am not harlot and you, Sir, are not a gentleman." Blair said angrily, pulling herself up to her full height and taking a defensive position in front of the poor dog.

"Do you know who you are speaking to," the man stuttered. "I am the Marquis of Essex, and you will release my dog, you strumpet."

"I would be careful what you say, Sir," Chuck said softly, danger lurking in his voice.

"This woman is manhandling my dog, either you take care of her or I will." The man reached out to yank Blair's arm tightly, and she stumbled crying out in pain as she fell unto her still sore ankle.

Chuck released the catch on his walking stick revealing the deadly sword hidden within. "Touch the Lady again and you will find yourself in need of a doctor. Name your seconds, Sir." He demanded coldly, sending a chill down both Blair and the Marquis's back.

Blair rose and hobbled to Chuck's side. Placing her arm on his sword hand she lowered it until it was no longer pointing at the Marquis face.

"Please, my Lord—," she stopped as she saw the tension and anger that was etched into Chuck's face, the way he looked as if he might snap at any minute. "Chuck," she breathed, "please...," To her relief his face instantly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders slowly relaxing like a tightly coiled spring set free. "The prince strictly forbids dueling. I couldn't bear to see you exiled to the continent or worse hurt over me."

"Would it really matter to you, Blair?" Chuck asked throatily, his sword never wavering.

Blair could only nod.

"And just exactly who am I to have the pleasure of dueling with," the Marquis asked angrily.

"Lord Bass, Duke of Somerest," Chuck announced coldly.

The man blanched his face turning white. "Forgive me, my Lord. I didn't know who you were." He turned to Blair, pleadingly. "I must have had too much to drink. Please accept my apologies, my lady."

Blair stared at him as if he was a nasty bug stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "Your apology will only be accepted under one condition. You must turn the dog over to me immediately."

"But that is my prizewinning English Bulldog," he objected, strenuously.

Chuck glared at the man dangerously, raising his sword until it was at the level of the Marquis neck, so close he had only to move the man's head would be sliced off like the head from a dandelion. "I would heed the young lady if I were you."

"Fine," the man grumbled, giving one last parting glare to Blair.

"Oh, hell," Chuck sighed, before giving the Marquis a stunning punch to the face. Nobody got away with touching Blair and treating her like that she was anything other than the lady she was.

The man reeled back, his hands flying up to cup his injured face. Shaking in terror he climbed back into his curricle and sped off whipping his horses furiously.

"Please don't ask me to rescue the horses too," Chuck remarked cynically. "I think this is the most gentlemanly I have ever been and quite frankly it hurts." Shaking the pain from his fist he contemplated the scene before.

Blair didn't bother to answer as once more was kneeling before the dog uttering loving nonsensical words, not even aware that her white dress was now stained.

"Take care. He may snap at you," Chuck said quickly kneeling down next to her and grimacing at the dust and dirt that was bound to stick to his champagne colored trousers.

"How badly has that man hurt him," Blair cried, not even bothering to give the man his rightful title.

Chuck sighed, removing his gloves and handing them to Blair. Dutifully she took them as his fingers examined the meaty bulldog. "He is badly bruised, but there don't appear to be any broken bones."

"Poor handsome thing," Blair said, rubbing him under his chin. The dog clearly knowing whom he had to thank for his rescue rolled over to display his tummy. After submitting to the scratching of his belly by Blair the dog returned to a sitting position and commenced licking Lord Bass's fingers much to the Duke's disgust.

"See what a smart dog he is," Blair said, carefully rising to her feet so not to disturb her ankle very much. "He knows he has you to thank for his rescue. "

"If he thinks that he is a dog of very little intelligence," Chuck said wryly. "He certainly owes his life to you."

"Oh no. I could never have managed without your help," Blair said with appreciation. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, I find I very much enjoy this gentlemanly side to you."

"Do you, now" Chuck grinned. "Perhaps you didn't mind the scoundrel bit where I hit the Marquis either."

Blair stared deep into his eyes. "I am afraid that was my favorite part," her breath caught in her throat as she leaned in slowly, her lips parting. Sweetly her mouth brushed his in a velvet caress. Chuck opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, kissing him in the middle of the street in full daylight. Slowly and exquisitely Chuck ravished her with tender kisses that left her craving more.

When she finally pulled away, he looked at her with triumph before hungrily kissing the side of her throat, moving from the hollow beneath her ear to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She arched against him, her eyes closed and her face flushed with passion. Tired of being kept waiting, the horses kicked and snorted, waking Blair from her dream like state.

"We are in public," she hissed, suddenly very much aware they were once more kissing in an alleyway in the most undignified way.

"That didn't seem to matter to you when your tongue was down my throat," Chuck said, rising an eyebrow at her in amusement.

Blair ignored him as she attempted to limp back to the carriage. Chuck refusing to let her stubborn pride get in the way scooped her up in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way. Seated in his arms, Blair leaned her head against his chest feeling as for the first time that this was where she belonged. That she was home. Chuck seemed to feel it too as he gazed tenderly at the precious bundle her held. Settling her as gently as possible into the seat of the curricle he turned to climb in himself.

"Will you be so kind to hand up Handsome to me?" Blair asked.

"Handsome?" Chuck asked, puzzled.

"Why the dog of course," Blair replied looking at Chuck as if he was an imbecile.

Chuck burst out laughing as he looked at the massive homely bulldog before him. "Handsome, huh? If that is what you consider handsome I am afraid I have some serious competition."

Blair looked at him with large beseeching eyes. "Please, my Lord, hand him up."

"Are you sure you want him?" Chuck teased. "I can find a good home for him."

Blair held out her arms and since he could refuse her nothing he lifted the dog into the curricle groaning under the weight of Handsome. He watched with an indulgent smile as she petted and murmured gently at the beast. Collecting his cane and gloves he climbed back into his seat, taking the reins from his groom. The rest of the way back to the house was spent with Blair petting and talking to Handsome as Chuck's lips twitched in laughter.

Arriving at Lady van der Woodsen's, Chuck disembarked cradling Blair lightly in his arms he carried her into the house, Handsome trotting happily after them.

"Blair," Lady van der Woodsen said faintly as muddy paw prints followed them into the drawing room. "Is that a dog?"

"No, Aunt Lily, this is Handsome." Blair said waving her hand in the direction of the bulldog.

"Lord Bass, you got Miss Waldorf a dog?" Lady van der Woodsen asked, mystified at this sudden turn of events.

"Not exactly," Chuck said wryly, setting Blair down on the chaise lounge that just so recently had been the scene of the sensual removal of her stocking. The only telltale signs that Blair remembered was the slight color that bloomed in her cheeks.

"Yes, he did," said Blair beaming up at him with pleasure.

Chuck swallowed hard, her smile temporarily taking his breath away.

"Really, Lord Bass, a dog?" Lady van der Woodsen questioned, a frown marring her brow as she pictured the damage a dog could do.

"Don't worry, Aunt Lily," Blair said reaching out to scratch Handsome's soft ears as he looked at her with adoration. "Handsome is perfectly well behaved."

Lady van der Woodsen looked at the dog doubtfully. When Handsome turned his puppy dog brown eyes on her, wagging his tail happily she found herself unable to say no. "Well, if you will take him on as your responsibility, he can stay," she conceded.

"Thank you, Aunt Lily," Blair gushed,

The matter settled Lady van der Woodsen turned to face Lord Bass. "Will you be attending Almack's this Wednesday?"

Chuck inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps Miss Waldorf will feel up to attending?" He asked, trying to keep from sounding like an eager schoolboy and utterly failing.

Lady van der Woodsen stole a glance at Blair and it did not escape her notice the way Blair gazed at Lord Bass with open admiration, her face shining with happiness.

"Yes, I think it is about time Miss Waldorf returned to society," she murmured, more than pleased at how things were progressing. "Now, Lord Bass if you don't mind I think this has been more then enough excitement for one day."

Lord Bass bowed low catching Blair's gloved hand in his he brushed her fingertips with a kiss. "Until Wednesday then, Miss Waldorf," he said huskily.

Blair flashed him such an irresistible and devastating smile that he immediately started counting the hours until Wednesday when he could see her again.

* * *

Much love and thanks to my awesome reviewers:

ana-12., bewiebowobawa, sweetshorti868, Edwardslover09, Tiffany, Madeleinex, april168, Screwy, , Joanne, PhoenixTears95, , Sarah, Syrianora, Lalai, ggxoxo, puresimplicity-xo, calliope26, El Neneo, TeamSophia, damnthatmotherchucker, ggxoxo, Kate2008, poochbello, TriGemini, Jamie, CBIWBJ trory12, cavanaugh-girl, pam halliwell, vanillalatte86, Poinsettia, GossipGirlFanForever, Krism, elphin4ik, yadin, MareIridium and Relia.

Thanks also to my amazing beta, Kate.

Special shout out to Wendy for all her help with Never Be Free and for always knowing what to say to make me feel less insecure.


	8. Chapter 8

Blair took a small sip of the cherry cordial punch that the Comte had procured for her, trying not to peek noticeably at the curtained doorway of Almack's assembly rooms.

"Looking for someone?" Serena asked, in a teasing manner. It had not gone unnoticed by her the way Blair's eyes continuously wandered to the entrance of the ballroom. It was almost as if she were waiting for someone to appear and Serena had no doubt as to who that someone was.

"Certainly not," Blair said shortly turning to smile at the Comte de Loire. "I was just—" Blair faltered, as she glanced from the Comte's questioning eyes to Serena's merry ones. "I mean I was just looking to see if anyone arriving was wearing a similar gown to mine. I couldn't bear to be involved in such a faux pas," she finished lamely.

"A similar gown to yours?" Serena questioned, laughter in her voice. "Blair, not only are you wearing a very distinct shade of robin egg blue, you are also wearing a gown you designed yourself."

"I can see where you would be concerned, Miss Waldorf. It really wouldn't do at all to find yourself at a social event wearing a copy of another ladies dress. If exposed in such a way often enough it could eventually lead to social downfall," the Comte said gravely.

Serena shot Blair a pointedly annoyed look. Usually a paragon of patience, she had found that her easy-going manner seemed to disappear within moments of being in the Comte's company. Unfortunately, the man seemed unable to stay away from Blair which meant more and more of her time had been spent in his company.

"I am sure Miss Waldorf's reputation could survive half the ton wearing the same dress," came a deep voice from behind them. "When one is an original like her, one can get away with just about whatever one pleases."

Serena sighed with relief, Lord Bass had finally arrived. She watched in pleasure as Blair blushed and the air became thick with something indefinable and magnetic. In a way she almost felt sorry for the Comte. How one could be such a rattle plate, as not to see what was so obviously before him, took talent. He was going to get his heart broken and she felt guilty that she felt so indifferent at the thought.

Blair's heart thudded in her chest, her cheeks becoming hot as she swept Lord Bass a low curtsey. "My Lord," she murmured shyly. Having spent the last hour in the Comte's company she had found to her dismay she had thought only of the Duke. While her suitor had blathered on about improprieties and fast young misses she had spent her time daydreaming about committing those same sins with Lord Bass.

Chuck eyed her slight graceful figure and felt hot himself. He had spent many nights since their last kiss, aching for more. He had dreamed of rescuing hundreds of dogs just to see her beautiful smile; smiles that led to sweet kisses. Then there were the other dreams, the ones where her hurt ankle led to the removal not only of her silk stockings, but also every scrap of fabric she wore.

"Miss Waldorf," Lord Bass drawled. "Has done the impossible for a debutante, she has created a precedent. Look around you. Miss Waldorf's taste in colored gowns and her lack of jewels have caused a sensation within the ton."

Blair scanned the crowds of dancing debutantes. No longer were they dressed like ghosts in white, instead everywhere she looked she saw the colors of the rainbow. As for jewelry, it was true. Ropes of pearls and diamonds had been replaced by naked skin. Blair smiled in disbelief that her lack of jewelry and the funds to purchase such accessories had led to them all but disappearing from the necks and ears of the young unmarried hopefuls.

"I never intended…" she said her eyes wide with surprise.

"You didn't need to, Miss Waldorf. It appears that being a leader of fashion and an arbiter of taste is second nature for you. All of society waits with bated breath to see what you will wear next, what will you bring into fashion." Leaning in close, his lips just inches from her ear, he murmured, his voice rasping pleasurably against her skin. "Such power you yield in the palm of your hand."

Blair's eyelids fluttered slowly, his nearness overwhelming her senses until the lights seemed to dim and blur. The air around her felt thick and heavy and her heart surged in excitement at having him so close.

"It is most commendable that Miss Waldorf, at her young age, understands the unnecessary need for adornment. While a simple strand of pearls is de rigueur anything else is over done." the Comte interjected pompously.

Blair smiled at him thinly, barely veiling her annoyance. "While I would never argue against the beauty of simplicity, I find that when done tastefully although there is something lovely about the flash of gemstones. "

"Miss Waldorf, I must—"

"Would you join me in a waltz?" Chuck asked, ignoring the Comte all together and holding out his arm for Blair.

"You seem to have forgotten, waltz's are forbidden without permission of one of the patronesses. To waltz without having received their blessing is tantamount to social suicide," Blair said lightly trying to hide her frustration at being denied this pleasure.

"Much to fast for the young ladies anyhow, " The Comte interrupted. "A sedate country dance is really more the thing for young ladies. Really, Almacks is the only place that seems to adhere to any of the necessary standards needed to maintain the dignity of our social class."

"If the dignity of our social class is determined by which young ladies the patroness's consider worthy enough of the waltz I am afraid we are all doomed," Chuck said sarcastically.

"Lord Bass," The Comte scolded, looking quite scandalized. "How very inappropriate."

"Before I abandon all social niceties and revert back to my, no doubt, scoundrel tendencies, how is your ankle?" Chuck asked solicitously, shooting the Comte a quelling look while flexing his fist.

Blair dimpled, choking back a chuckle. "How kind of you to repress your natural instincts in our gentle company, Lord Bass," She said with a hint of mockery. "My ankle is mostly recovered and the doctor has given me a clean bill of health. I really must thank you. Without your help I can't imagine how much worse my ankle would be."

"Only for you would I take on the role of errant knight," Chuck said huskily, his voice low and intimate as if there was only the two of them and Serena and the Comte had somehow disappeared. Lifting her fingertips gently to his lips, Chuck's gaze caught and held Blair's, his eyes caressing her as they roved over her face. Blair shivered in delight as she felt his lips, hot and burning, through her kidskin gloves. Moistening her ruby lips with the tip of her tongue she remembered the feel of his lips on hers and it took all of her decorum not to surrender to him the second kiss she owed him.

Serena couldn't help blushing as she suddenly felt like she was very much intruding on a private moment between Blair and the Duke. How the Comte could be so oblivious she would never comprehend.

The Comte de Loire cleared his throat disapprovingly, the sound breaking the almost tangible connection between Blair and Chuck. Brought back to reality Blair focused on the punch in her hand, swallowing the last of the contents. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, as the liquid seemed to burn the back of her throat. For some reason the cherry cordial punch at Almack's tasted different than any other she had ever tasted.

Catching sight of Lord Archibald entering the ballroom Serena nervously gulped her own glass of punch. Catching a cough in the back of her throat she looked at the glass in her hand with confusion.

"Why don't you be a useful gentleman and fetch Miss Waldorf another glass of punch?" Lord Bass asked, staring pointedly at the Comte.

The French Lord gave Chuck a look of annoyance. "Of course, if that is what the lady wishes," he said turning to leave.

"Yes, please." Blair replied absentmindedly, feeling a bit lightheaded as Lord Archibald eagerly made his way over to them. She wasn't at all sure she should drink any more punch. If she didn't know any better she would think the punch had alcohol in it the way her head was spinning.

"Lady van der Woodsen, Miss Waldorf," Lord Archibald greeted, giving them both a short bow.

"Lord Archibald," Blair returned as she dipped into a curtsey. "Perhaps you could take my cousin for a stroll in the garden. She was just mentioning she would like some fresh air." Blair turned to give Serena an encouraging nod, ignoring Chuck's snort of laughter.

"Funny, I don't recall Lady van der Woodsen mentioning that at all," Chuck whispered in her ear. Blair shot Chuck a pleading glance and he spoke loudly, with a hint of humor, "Yes, I do believe the lady did mention a need for fresh air."

"I would love to escort Lady van der Woodsen to the gardens if she is so willing," Lord Archibald said earnestly, casting an adoring look at Serena.

"Yes," Serena said breathlessly, smiling up at Lord Archibald. Holding out his arm he led her in the direction of the gardens.

"You almost ruined it," Blair snapped at Chuck. "If he is ever going to propose he needs to get her alone and the gardens are the perfect setting for him to go down on one knee".

"I think I much prefer alleyways," Chuck laughed. "Shall we go find one?"

Blair looked at him aghast. "We are at Almack's, my Lord," she said succinctly, biting out every word as Countess de Lievien, glittering from head to toe with diamonds, and one of Almacks patronesses approached.

"Lord Bass, how lovely to see you finally gracing our fine assembly rooms after such a long time away," she said, highly pleased at this turn of events.

"A pleasure as always," Chuck said dryly, bowing in her direction.

"Miss Waldorf, so pleased to see you here as well," the Countess said as Blair curtsied low. "I didn't believe it when Lady Jersey told me, but you are here and that is proof enough."

"Proof?" Blair asked, bemused.

"That like bees to honey if you were promised vouchers, Lord Bass would once more darken our hallowed doors," the Countess laughed, as Blair flushed prettily. "And so she was right."

"A favor, Countess," Chuck asked, giving the lady one of his most charmingly roguish smiles.

"I am in the mood to be generous. What is it you wish?" She said, absentmindedly unfurling her fan.

"Permission for Miss Waldorf to waltz?" Chuck replied, winking conspiratorially at Blair.

"You sly devil, "the Countess said whacking him playfully on the arm with her fan. Casting Blair a calculating look she scanned her from head to toe. "I am not unaware of how you have comported yourself, skirting the laws of what is proper. Why even tonight you flout convention by your choice of dress."

"My dear Countess, I seem to remember a young lady who scandalized society by dressing as Lady Godiva at a masquerade one year. I still hear talk of her beauty and audacity to this day," Chuck said lifting the Countess's gloved hand to his lips.

The countess giggled like a young schoolgirl, furiously fanning her pink tinged cheeks. "My dear Duke, it has been years since I have heard anyone mention that particular exploit of mine."

"If only I had been of an age to see that lovely exhibition, I fear I would be an already married man." Chuck said playfully, placing one hand over his heart.

Blair all but rolled her eyes at the spectacle un-playing before her eyes.

Countess de Lievien snapped her fan shut. "I suppose allowances can be made in this case. Especially for a young lady that has so obviously captured the attention of societies most confirmed bachelor," she said casting Lord Bass a sly look. "Permission granted."

Blair could hardly contain the grin that spread across her face. To be granted permission to waltz at her first visit to Almack's was unprecedented and she owed it all to Lord Bass. It took all of her will power not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him then and there, but instead she unfurled her butterfly fan and gave him a look of pure longing.

The Countess chuckled to herself as she saw the heated looks that passed between Lord Bass and Miss Waldorf. While Lord Bass was known throughout the ton for his bedroom skills and pursuit of the ladies, she had never dreamed an unknown penniless scrap of a girl would be the one to capture his heart. Taking her leave of the couple, she leaned in to murmur one last comment into Lord Bass's ear. "A bit of advice. Wed her and bed her soon, before the two of you ruin her reputation by getting caught partaking in more then just waltz's."

Chuck smirked as Blair, overhearing the Countess's remark, frantically fanned her flushed face. "Shall we," Chuck drawled, as the orchestra started playing a new waltz.

Blair nodded, placing her fingertips on his arm she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Taking their place among the dancers, Chuck swept her into his arms holding her against him as tightly as propriety allowed. Feeling his hand curl around her waist, Blair leaned into him, oblivious to the gossip and whispers that surrounded her entrance on the dance floor.

Chuck felt his body tighten at the feel of her slender frame encircled by his strong arms. Electricity flowed through him, heating his blood as she swayed against him, her hip brushing against his thighs. Squeezing her hand in his he leaned in close, so close loose tendrils of curls danced as his heated breath caressed the tender skin of her ear lobe.

"I believe you still owe me two kisses," Chuck murmured, as his fingers lightly caressed the curve of her waist.

Blair's head was spinning and her feet felt as light and airy as feathers. Chills and heat ran up and down her spine as she leaned forward, her head suddenly feeling much too heavy for her neck. Blinking she swayed on her feet, only to be caught in Lord Bass's arms.

Chuck held her close, his eyes worriedly searching her face. Blair smiled up at him dreamily, leaning her head against his chest. "I feel funny," she whispered as her vision blurred.

Leading her from the dance floor, Chuck was struck by the scene that was unfolding before him. One young miss was fast asleep snoring in a gilt chair, while another was lifting her skirts to remove her dance slippers. In the corners of the room couples were cuddling as chaperones attempted to pull them apart. Groups of young gentleman were gathered over the punch bowl laughing uproariously while drinking copious amounts of punch. Most striking of all was Lady Jersey advancing on a group of tittering young ladies while the Countess of Lieven yelled at a group of gangly youths in states of undress.

Blair clutched at Chuck's waistcoat as she stumbled, almost tripping over her skirt. Tilting her head up she looked up at him with eyes that glowed with passion. "Kiss me, Chuck."

Chuck felt as if his heart might burst from his chest. He had waited for this moment, dreamed of it ever since they first met. He wanted to seize her, kiss her until they were both breathless and aching with need. Instead, reality reared its ugly head as Chuck gazed down at tantalizing red pouting lips. She would never forgive him if she lost her Alamck's vouchers due to a kiss, not matter how delightful it was.

With a sigh, Chuck shook his head with painful regret. "Damn," he swore under his breath.

"Lord Bass," a voice sharply interrupted his inner recriminations.

Looking up Chuck was greeted by Lady van der Woodsen's stern face.

"Someone has tampered with the punch and added enough alcohol to drown a regiment." Lady van der Woodsen said, looking worriedly at Blair. "Do you know if Miss Waldorf drank any?"

"I think it is safe to assume she imbibed at least once glass," Chuck said dryly, his mouth quirking as Blair giggled.

"Oh, dear," sighed Lady van der Woodsen. "Then it is most likely that my daughter did as well."

"Last I saw of her she was being led to the gardens by Lord Archibald," Chuck said, grinning at the thought of what wicked deeds were most likely taking place on Almack's highly proper and genteel grounds.

Lady van der Woodsen's mouth flew open in shock. "Oh, my. I had best find her at once." Turning to Blair with concern she took Blair's hand in hers. "Are you alright, Dear?"

"She'll be fine," Chuck laughed, as Blair's eyes fluttered closed and she fell into his arms.

"I wouldn't normally ask and I realize it is highly improper, but under the circumstances do you think you could escort Miss Waldorf home?" Lady van der Woodsen pled, her eyes already searching the gardens for Serena.

"I am at your service, Lady van der Woodsen," Chuck replied smoothly. He would consider no other option. Blair was in no state to be left at Almacks with half the ton deep in their cups. Promptly removing her from the scene would ensure that no scandal was attached to her name even though she clearly was under the influence of spirits. Everyone, including the patronesses, would be so focused on cleaning up this public embarrassment, no one would notice him discretely escorting Miss Waldorf home.

"I can never thank you enough," Lady van der Woodsen called gratefully over her shoulder as she hurried out to the gardens. Having taken care of Blair's safety her mind turned to the next pressing need, finding her daughter.

Blair's hand reached out to tenderly curve over Chuck's smooth shaven cheek, her thumb gently caressing his bottom lip. "Such beautiful lips," she sighed. "What they do to me."

Chuck couldn't help the burning wave of heat that coursed through him at her words. Kissing her gloved finger, he cursed women's fashion that declared gloves must be worn at all times. He wanted to feel her smooth heated skin with his tongue, savor the taste of it on his lips. Gently he cupped her hand in his and laid it on his arm, his other hand curving around to hold her waist as he propelled her towards the exit. She leaned into him, her head fitting comfortably into his chest.

Carefully he led her from the room, calling for his carriage as a footman jumped up to do his bidding.

Turning to face Chuck, Blair stood on her tiptoes and before he had a chance to pull away her lips were on his. Sighing as their lips met, Blair felt as warm and fuzzy as a bubble floating in a glass of champagne.

"Miss Waldorf!"

Blair groaned as her lips reluctantly left Chuck's and she came face to face with the Comte de Loire.

"Whatever are you doing, Miss Waldorf?" asked the Comte, his voice heavy with disapproval.

"What does it look like she's doing," drawled Chuck lazily, enjoying every moment of the Comte's discomfort.

Blair shook her head wearily, as the Comte appeared in her line of vision as two Comte's. "There are two of you," she murmured, horror filling her voice. "Chuck, please make them go away."

Chuck 's laughter filled the room as the Comte approached Blair as if she were a wild animal.

"Miss Waldorf, you are not yourself," the Comte said worriedly, holding out his hand. "You must come with me and we will go find Lady van der Woodsen together.

Blair glanced from the Comte to the Duke and back again clearly confused. "I don't feel so well," she whispered.

"Of course you don't," Chuck said soothingly, shooting a dangerous look at the Comte. "That is why Lady van der Woodsen charged me with the task of escorting you home."

"Unhand, Miss Waldorf this instant," demanded the Comte. "I don't know what Lady van der Woodsen was thinking, but Miss Waldorf is in no condition to be left defenseless with such a rake as yourself. I personally will —."

"Scoundrel," Blair interjected tartly.

"What?" Asked the Comte, looking at her with confusion.

"He is by far more of a scoundrel," Blair explained patiently, looking at the Comte as if he was an imbecile.

Chuck smiled down at her with adoration as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her close. "And only ever a gentleman for you."

"Lord Bass, Miss Waldorf is clearly not well and I cannot allow you—" . The Comte rushed to block their exit as Chuck continued to escort Blair to the door.

Chuck sighed condescendingly, "My Lord, since you seem to be at a loss I will endeavor to explain the situation to you. Some member of our most genteel social class decided, most likely as a prank, to doctor the punch with alcohol. Now if you will excuse me I am taking Miss Waldorf home, something that Lady van der Woodsen deemed to be quite appropriate under the circumstances."

"You're drunk," the Comte said looking at Blair with distaste.

"Not of her own volition you, gudgeon." Chuck retorted irritably. "Now will you let me pass?"

"If I am drunk it is all your fault. You are the one that gave me the punch," Blair said accusingly.

"I didn't know and now you are ruined." The Comte cried, plaintively.

"I was ruined way before this. I went to a money lenders to finance my season and Lord Bass has been kissing me in alleyways almost since the day we met," Blair said almost crossly.

The Comte started to say something, gave up and turned his back on Blair giving her the cut direct.

"Oh, dear. I shouldn't have said that," Blair said in a hushed voice her eyes filling with tears. "I really have ruined myself now. Society will send me back to the country and Lord Archibald will never marry Serena now. My foolish tongue has ruined us both." Tears like dewdrops trembled on her lashes, only to fall one by one down her cheeks.

"Hush now, Sweetheart." Chuck said taking out his silk handkerchief and gently wiping her tears away. "Soon you will be a Duchess and no one will dare say anything against you. You can cut all of society if you like and they will love you for it."

To Chuck's dismay, Blair only cried harder.

"Lord Bass, your carriage is here," the footman interrupted.

Chuck led Blair to the carriage as she sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his black suit coat with her tears. Handing her into the carriage he waited for his driver to close the door before scooping her up in his arms, and running his hands soothingly down her back.

Blair settled into his lap, easing herself into his embrace, her body going limp as she relaxed under his tender ministrations. When the tears finally stopped, she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, a whisper of a sigh escaping her lips. Chuck's head lowered a fraction and the low light of the carriage lantern caught the hint of dark fire that glinted in his eyes. Ever so gently, his mouth grazed hers, as light as a warm feathering of air. She pressed her lips against his, kissing him back with a searing intensity that took both their breath away.

Reaching up to twine her fingers in his dark hair, Blair pulled herself closer to Chuck, her breasts now pressed firmly against his chest, her thighs between his. A groan escaped his lips at his body's reaction to the way she fit so perfectly against him. As she teasingly nibbled at his mouth he realized he needed no further urging to slide his tongue inside her mouth.

Her tongue tentatively reached out to touch his and she was rewarded as his danced sensuously along hers. Passion ignited in Blair and she was deaf to all but the pulse of heated blood that sang in her ears. She sucked in her breath as his mouth traced lush kisses along the line of her jaw and then further to the curve of her neck. Her body arched up to meet his as his tongue made a trail down her neck, stopping only to lightly suck at her pulse point.

A small moue of displeasure escaped Blair's lips as the warmth of his mouth left her skin. Tenderly he untangled Blair hands from his hair, pressing first the backs of her hands to his mouth and then turning them over he kissed each wrist in turn.

"This can't go further, Blair. Not tonight," Chuck said, his voice heavy with regret.

Her mouth reached up to search his out and he rewarded her with a short yet achingly sweet kiss.

"But why?" Blair asked breathlessly, cupping his face in her gloved palms. "I know you want me."

"Because when we finally are together I want it to be without the haze of alcohol to cloud your judgment," Chuck explained ruefully, hating himself for once more succumbing to his gentlemanly flaws. The one time he wanted more than anything to act on his rakish tendencies he found he couldn't, not with Blair.

Blair sighed heavily as he took one of her small hands in his, turning it over he placed his mouth over the top pearl button. With his teeth he freed the buttons from the buttonholes, stopping between each gap of kidskin leather to tongue Blair's heated skin. Finally, freeing Blair from her glove he tossed it on the seat of the carriage and focused his attention on lovingly and painstakingly kissing each finger. When he finally sucked in one finger, teasingly swirling his tongue around the fingertip Blair thought she would surely die of pleasure. Lost in a blur of sensation she seemed to ebb and flow in and out of consciousness only to be jolted painfully awake by the carriage stopping.

Chuck reluctantly released Blair's hand, giving her fingers one last adoring kiss as the coach door opened. "Tell your Aunt I will call on her tomorrow," he said his voice thick with barely unchecked passion.

"You are going to tell her about the Comte de Loire and the money lending?" Blair asked in a small voice, blinking up at him with pensive doe like eyes.

"No," Chuck said with a trace of laughter in his voice. "I am going to ask her for your hand in marriage."

"Oh," Blair breathed, stars shining in her eyes as the footman escorted her out of the carriage.

Halfway through the doorway of the van der Woodsen house she turned around her gaze meeting his. "How do you know I will say, yes," she called out teasingly.

"I don't," Chuck said giving Blair such an irresistibly devilish smirk that her breath caught in her throat as the footman slowly closed the door behind her.

* * *

While short, I hope the chapter doesn't disappoint. I am thinking that I will post two versions of the next chapter. One that includes carriage sex! and one that doesn't. ;)

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers: uncorazonquebrado, Kuku Mademoiselle., sweetshorti868, TriGemini, CBIWBJ trory12, silvermantella, lokiyan, orio1023, Pao, Brittopia, Bye11, Relia, ggxoxo, Salma, Katertots, Edwardslover09, Syrianora, LauraCeleste, , Kensley-Jackson, Kate2008, KillerNewton, illusion100, puresimplicity-xo, abelard, chole92 and calliope26.

Eternal gratitude to my awesome beta, Kate.


	9. Chapter 9

"Are congratulations in order?," Chuck greeted Lord Archibald as he entered the private box he owned at the races.

"You are looking at an engaged man," Nate said cheerily. "Lady Serena van der Woodsen has consented to my offer of marriage."

"Is that all she consented to in the gardens last night?" Chuck asked with a leer, seating himself besides Nate.

Nate uncomfortably cleared his throat to Chuck's amusement. "She's a Lady," he said with consternation.

Lazily pulling his quizzing glass from his pocket, he twirled it in Nate's direction. "How very boring," Chuck sighed.

"She does, however, kiss like an angel," Nate enthused, "and her hair—."

Chuck snorted, "Nathaniel, if all you can think about is her hair I think you must be doing something wrong."

Nate frowned at Chuck, started to say something and gave up. "How progresses your suit with Miss Waldorf?" he asked.

"Miss Waldorf is leading me a pretty dance," Chuck said as he glowered with frustration.

"How so," Nate asked with sympathy.

"I went to Lady van der Woodsen's today to propose to Miss Waldorf only to find that she was unable to see me today. She pled a headache," Chuck said grimly.

"She might truly have had one," Nate offered.

"No, she is avoiding me." Chuck's eyes narrowed, his lips thinning into a sardonic smile. "And after last night I was so sure that she was of the same mind."

"Wait…what happened last night?" Nate asked with confusion.

Chuck smirked at him lecherously, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Lets just say Miss Waldorf does not kiss like an angel, in fact —."

"That's all right," Nate hastily interrupted his best friend. "I really don't want to know."

All conversation halted at the sound of the bugle heralded the start of the next race.

Chuck leisurely scanned the crowds from his private box, stopping only when he noticed a petite figure down in front of the track. Startled, he lifted his quizzing glass to his eye, studying the shapely legs accentuated by breeches, the hips barely hidden by a waistcoat and the mahogany hair crammed into a top hat. He would recognize Blair anywhere, even dressed like a youth cavorting about the town.

He was going to kill her. Then he was going to peel her breeches off inch by inch and kiss her until she was senseless. What was she thinking coming to the races alone and dressed as a boy? If caught, she would be banned from society forever. There were some things that not even him or the Prince of Wales, himself, could smooth over and this was one of them. Jaw clenched tight, Chuck realized that she wasn't alone. Another male, who by the looks of it was very friendly with her, escorted her. So friendly were they that she was looking up at him and smiling in pleasure, as if they had known each other for years.

Blair's watched the horses line up with bated breath. Her whole future depended on this race. She had gambled every last cent she had in hopes that her chosen horse would win.

"Don't worry, Blair. I checked all the horses and Pride's Folly, by far, is the finest piece of horseflesh I have ever seen."

"I trust you, Eric," she said laying her hand gently on his arm for the briefest moment, before remembering where she was. While she was unsure as to what gentleman did at such masculine events as horse racing, she was quite sure that they didn't touch each other as she just had. She had never been somewhere like this. The racetrack was filled with gentlemen shouting and screaming, drinking copious amounts of ale and smoking the most awful pipes and cigars. Digging her nails into her palms she tried not to think of the consequences of what would happen if Pride's Folly failed to win the race.

"I still don't quite understand why we are here," Eric said leaning in close to her ear so she could hear him over the din of the crowds. "Lord Bass has enough money that the loss of a few thousand pounds will make little difference to his fortune."

"It is the principle," Blair said resolutely, trying not to choke on the smoke that filled the room. "I won't be beholden to anyone."

"Didn't you say he didn't care about the money?" Eric probed, watching Blair's response carefully.

"But I do," said Blair her tone making it clear that no further discussion would be welcome.

"There is more to this debt and Lord Bass than you are telling me," Eric said with an innocent tone even as he gave her a sly glance out of the corner of his eye. "This wouldn't happen to be the same Lord Bass that Serena wrote was chasing after you with his heart on his sleeve, would it?"

"It's complicated," Blair sighed, shoving her hands in the pockets of her breeches.

"It always is," Eric responded sagely.

Blair didn't answer as the horses left the gate. She watched breathlessly, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as Pride's Folly overtook first one and then the next horse.

Eric leaned over the railing, hardly containing his own excitement. This was his first time at the races, his first time in London. He never would have believed he was here if it weren't for the horses flying by in front of him. When he received the letter pleading for his help along with the funds to get to London from Blair it had seemed like a dream come true. Now standing here he wasn't so sure. She was acting as if her very life depended on the outcome of this race and he was worried of what would happen if his knowledge of horses failed and Pride's Folly lost.

Then there was this whole issue of Lord Bass. It was obvious Blair was madly in love with him and wanted to marry him and yet here they were at the racetrack gambling the last of her funds in order to pay back a debt Lord Bass refused to recognize. Eric had never been so confused in his life. As Eric watched Pride's Folly pick up speed and overtake another horse he grew more confident that a lifetime spent in the country riding horses was about to pay off.

As Pride's Folly pulled into the lead, Blair couldn't help the squeal that escaped her lips. A quick warning glance from Eric and she hid it with a fake coughing fit. Blair watched, hardly breathing as Pride's Folly crossed the finish line. Jumping up and down she threw her arms around Eric. Blair was on top of the world. She had just won back all of the money that she owed Lord Bass plus enough extra to keep them all comfortable for a year at least.

Chuck watched Blair from his box, his fingers tightening dangerously around his walking stick. He was going to destroy Blair's young man. How dare he put his arms around her and smile at her with such happiness. Didn't he know, hadn't Blair told him that she was spoken for?

Nate glanced at Chuck worriedly. He had never seen him like this before. His face was white with anger, the muscle in his jaw twitching dangerously.

"Chuck, are you alright?" Nate asked with concern.

"I will be," Chuck replied stormily, exiting the private box.

"Wait, where are you going?" Nate rose to follow him.

Blair and Eric made their way through the throngs of gentleman towards the caged area where the winnings were kept. Blair ever mindful of the danger of discovery moved closer to Eric, knowing he would protect her if need be. Although she didn't expect trouble since she had dressed painstakingly in Eric's old clothes, pinning her hair into a bob under her top hat. She looked exactly like a pretty young gentleman just on the brink of puberty.

Following Eric, Blair almost screamed as fingers dug into her shoulder spinning her around. Inhaling sharply, a cry on her lips Blair came face to face with Lord Bass.

Chuck's eyes spit sparks as he caught and held Blair's surprised eyes.

"Unhand my friend, Sir or I will be forced to take drastic measures," Eric said, clenching his fists.

Chuck barely spared a glance for Eric, as if he was a bothersome gnat not worth his attention.

"Don't say a word, if you want to get out of here with your reputation intact." Chuck said coldly, his voice sending shivers down Blair's spine.

For the first time since she had started this venture Blair was worried. Never before had she seen Lord Bass so angry. It made her insides twist and turn until she was sure she couldn't breathe let alone move.

Instead of backing down, her chin jutted up, and she met his face head on. "You, your Grace, are drawing attention to us. If my reputation is in jeopardy at all it will be due to your actions."

"Chuck, what on earth are you doing?" Nate asked frantically, finally catching up to his best friend only to find him practically at fisticuffs with two young gentlemen.

Eric glanced from Blair to the impeccably and fashionably dressed gentleman who looked as if at any moment he might explode from sheer frustration.

"Lord Bass, I presume," Eric said grinning as he gave a slight bow.

"And you are?" Chuck sneered, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"Eric van der Woodsen," Eric replied, his lips quirking with laughter.

Nate eyes widened in wonder. "Wait…so you're —"

"Lady Serena van der Woodsen's brother," Chuck finished, a hint of a smirk crossing his lips.

Lord Archibald slapped Eric heartily on the back. "We're to be brothers. Your sister agreed last night to marry me."

A smile spread across Eric's face. "I heard, my Lord. Congratulations."

"If you're quite finished with introductions, I believe we have a more pressing issue at hand," Chuck said dryly his eyes never leaving Blair's face.

"Eric, please cash in my winnings. Lord Bass and I need to speak," Blair attempted to say with an even tone, even though she was quaking in her boots.

"Good God, is that Miss Waldorf?" Nate asked, his mouth gaping open like a fish trying to breathe out of water. "I'm dreaming aren't I? Lady Serena really didn't accept my proposal…did she?"

"Unfortunately, this is very real, " Chuck said without a trace of his customary humor. "Now if you will excuse us, it seems the young gentleman," Chuck paused over the word as if it was stuck in his throat, "is in need of a ride home, immediately."

"Go ahead, Mister Waldorf," Eric quipped teasingly. "I will collect your funds for you and deliver them myself."

Blair glanced at Eric, her mouth opening as if to argue, as if she wanted him to say something in protest. Instead he only grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

Before Blair had a chance to say a word further on the matter, Chuck had grabbed her arm and was propelling her outside to where his coach awaited.

When they arrived at the coach, Blair hesitated, expecting Lord Bass to hand her in.

"A gentleman needs no assistance into a carriage, unlike a lady," Lord Bass said clearly enjoying her predicament.

Giving him a frustrated glare, Blair climbed up into the coach, stumbling her way up the steps and through the door.

Chuck all but leered as he watched Blair's attractive and rounded backside weave and bob its way into the coach. Swallowing thickly he was riveted to the spot by the way her breeches clung snugly to every curve. He found his anger ebbing as waves of hot lust flowed through him.

Climbing in next to her he called out directions to the driver. They drove in silence, heavy and oppressive until Blair finally gave in.

"I realize how this must look," Blair said in a small voice.

"I don't think you do. I don't think you have any idea of the ramifications of what you just did. If you had, you never would have attempted such a scheme in the first place," Chuck said grimly.

"I thought it through completely. There was no way I could possibly get caught. Who would ever think that Miss Waldorf would be dressed as a boy at the races? My plan was foolproof until you came along, my Lord. You almost ruined everything!" She accused, glaring at him angrily, before asking the one thing that bothered her the most. "How did you know it was me anyway?"

Chuck stared at her incredulous. "Do you really think I wouldn't know you anywhere? Haven't you realized by now that I am drawn to you like a moth to a flame?" Chuck said huskily, his voice as rich and deep as velvet. "There is no place you could hide that I wouldn't find you."

Blair shivered, hot and cold chills simultaneously running up and down her spine as his words reverberated in her brain.

"And what, may I ask, did you hope to accomplish with this foolproof plan of yours?" Chuck asked sarcastically.

"I have already accomplished it. I have freed myself from my debt to you," Blair replied proudly. "With my winnings I have more than enough to pay you back and keep the van der Woodsen's in comfort for at least another year."

"You little fool," Chuck said violently. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care a fig about the money? I'll have you any way I can get you; rich or poor it matters naught."

"Don't you understand that I can't marry you unless there is no debt between us," Blair cried angrily.

"Why can't I make you see that it has never been about the money? The money was just a way to get closer to you. From the moment I met you it's only ever been about you, Blair. You!" Chuck retorted harshly.

"I won't enter a relationship with someone I love on such unequal footing!" Blair shouted, stopping to look at him with terrified eyes as the truth slipped unbidden from her lips.

"You love me?" Chuck asked his voice full of awe and wonder, as if the heavens had opened before him.

"I didn't want to. It wasn't part of the plan," Blair said petulantly. "In fact, I did everything I could to fight it, but you wouldn't take no for an answer. Everywhere l looked, everywhere I went, you were there forcing your way into my heart until all I could see was you."

"Then my plan worked," he murmured.

He tilted his head, his eyes holding hers captive, and then his lips were on hers, his tongue sweeping her lower lip as heat flared between them, a pure flame that burned white-hot. Parting her lips she welcomed the fire, trembling when at last their tongues met. Then she was in his arms, locked to him just as he had unlocked her heart.

When she moaned, he took her head in his hands, in a touch so achingly sweet Blair felt tears come to her eyes. With gentle thumbs he caressed her cheeks and her temples, loving her with his hands. Lifting his lips from hers, his mouth followed his hands, moving over her face, her chin and along her ear.

"Blair," he murmured, into the hollow of her throat. "Blair, my love."

Pure desire overflowed from his hands as they skimmed the curve of her waist, tracing the hourglass shape of her hips. Crushing her firmly against him, his arms wound around her waist, his strong hands reaching to cup and massage her buttocks. A deep sound escaped Chuck's throat as Blair's fingers twined themselves in his hair, tugging him even closer to her. That touch as simple as it was gave him a pleasure akin to agony. He thrust his tongue once more into her mouth and his hips ground into hers until she was sure she was going to dissolve into pure liquid heat.

Then his hands were everywhere, silkily tracing the contours of her figure, touching her as if she was his most cherished treasure. Warm and possessive, his palms were a heated caress, burning her through the thin fabric of her clothing.

Closing her eyes, Blair shivered and tried to breathe as his lips found hers again, his tongue touching, tracing and sliding against hers in a tantalizing, provocative caress.

They were shaken abruptly from their haze of pleasure as the carriage came to a sudden stop.

"Damn," Chuck swore, as the door to the carriage was opened. "Blair—"

"Yes, I will marry you," she interrupted, giving him a dimpled smile.

Chuck couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face. Pulling her hand to his lips possessively, he kissed each of her fingertips.

"You have made me the happiest of men," Chuck murmured, his eyes smoky with desire.

"And you have given me my fairytale." Blair said saucily, peeping up at him beneath her thick lashes and giving him a sultry smile that took his breath away and made him want to gather her up in his arms once more.

"We will announce our engagement tonight at Lord Cromwell's ball," Chuck said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

Blair nodded and smiling at him coyly she stopped to blow him a kiss as she exited the carriage.

Chuckling with amusement he let her go even though he wanted to follow after her, shout his love to the rooftops of the van der Woodsen house and carry her off and marry her this very day. Instead, Chuck sat back in the carriage and pulled out his gold pocket watch. Gently, opening the gold lid, he pulled out the dark curl that had resided there ever since that fateful day at O'Conall and Son's Moneylenders. Smiling he brought it to his lips. He could wait. After all she was his now.

* * *

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers: dreamgurl, XxScarlettPrincessxX, lifesucks2104, peckforever, aabbyy, Edwardslover09, READER120, uncorazonquebrado, Jamie, Sk8ergherl, TriGemini, odyjha, Salma, Agent Twinkle Toes, dk-fatale, Kuku Mademoiselle., abelard, flipped, sweetshorti868, cavanaugh-girl, Bye11, EmilyEcstatic, EstrellaBass, projectinglovee, lokiyan, Ellie-Mae, Kate2008, 3venst4r, delphin4ik, Relia, Tiffany, E.F.B., hippysheep, Madeleinex, bewiebowobawa, Tiffany, , chairlovforever, ana-12., Poinsettia, damnthatmotherchucker, samuraigurl1213, ggxoxo, Edwardslover09, LauraCeleste, Pao, chole92, READER120, Lil Miss Chuckles, pam halliwell, CBIWBJ trory12, Krism, KillerNewton, callmebluetoo, Lena Belle, illusion100 and puresimplicity-xo.

Much love to my beta, Kate. Extra special thanks go to Riley, Katy and Lynn for their input. :D


	10. Chapter 10

Blair smiled fondly at Serena as the two of them made their entrance into Lord Cromwell's Ball. She had never seen her cousin look lovelier. Her happiness at her engagement to Lord Archibald had brought color to her cheeks and a gleam to her eyes that Blair had never seen before. Knowing that it was all due to her money-lending scheme Blair couldn't help the smug smile that spread across her features.

Glancing across the ballroom, Blair's breath caught at the site of Chuck, reclining leisurely against a marble pillar surveying the room as if it were his kingdom. Catching a glimpse of her, the boredom that had been etched in his face instantly switched to an expression of happiness. So caught up in making it to her side, he did not notice the approving looks bestowed on him by Lady Jersey and the Countess Lievien.

Reaching Blair, Chuck bowed and taking her hand in his, he kissed her fingertips in the very model of propriety. Smirking at Blair he slid a finger between the gaps in the buttonholes of her gloves to feel the forbidden, her skin through the thin kidskin of his own gloves. Mesmerized by this simple touch they stared into each other's eyes, silently communicating their love and desire right under the nose of society. This small erotic touch unseen and unbidden was nearly Blair's undoing. Biting her lip, her eyes fluttering closed she fought to control her desire as Chuck's thumb stroked the sensitive skin of her inner wrist.

"Blair," Lady van der Woodsen said sharply. "Must I separate the two of you? All of society is talking. What is this about a trip to a moneylender? And since when did you start gambling?"

"Damn," Chuck swore. He had completely forgotten about the Comte in his happiness and elation at finally getting Blair's hand in marriage. Although the rumors about money lending didn't surprise him the one about gambling shocked him. Blair had been so careful not to be recognized. There was only one person who could be the culprit there, Carter Baizen, and when he caught him he was going to make him suffer.

Blair's face whitened, her smile faltering. "It isn't what you think, Aunt Lily."

"Please do not worry Lady van der Woodsen. Miss Waldorf has given me the greatest joy in accepting my offer of marriage." Chuck said lightly. Catching sight of Blair's anxious face he rushed to reassure her. "You deeds will matter little once it is known you are to be a Duchess."

"This is true, Blair? You are to be married?" Lady van der Woodsen asked, her face lighting up with happiness.

"It is," Blair conceded, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"With your blessing, we would like to be married as soon as possible," Chuck said with a heated gaze at Blair.

"Is there any particular reason for that?" Lily asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be. It wouldn't be the first time a young debutante had found herself in trouble for clandestine relations. Of both her girls she found it the hardest to believe that her sensible and ambitious Blair would be the one to find herself in the family way, but the way the Blair and Lord Bass had been making eyes at each other it really shouldn't have come as a surprise.

"Chuck!" Blair exclaimed. "We haven't…that is—"

Throwing his head back, Chuck laughed out loud. "Let's just say the groom has little patience," he said suggestively, with a smirk. "Besides it would give society something different to talk about."

"Oh, thank heavens," Lily replied, sending up a prayer for small miracles. "A double wedding with Serena would be perfect and make the proceedings seem much more respectful. I think it could all be arranged in a few months time."

"A few months time?" Chuck groaned. "I don't think I can wait a few days to make Miss Waldorf mine. God knows what trouble she will get in before then."

Blair rapped Chuck's knuckles sharply with her fan giving him an arched look.

"I know there is more going on then you are telling me, but I am willing to overlook it in the face of this happy news," Lily said graciously. "When will you be announcing your engagement?"

"If you have no objections, I'll announce it now." Bestowing a small bow in Lily's direction he held out his arm for Blair.

With a quick smile at her Aunt Lily, Blair allowed herself to be led towards the orchestra. Her ice blue silk dress swished around her ankles as the dancing crowd parted for them.

Raising his hand to silence the music Chuck cleared his throat. "If I could have your attention, Miss Waldorf has done me the ultimate honor of accepting my proposal of marriage."

Applause and shouts of friendly congratulations erupted from all sides of the ballroom. While there were quite a few disappointed and broken hearts among the ton's ladies and gentlemen they managed to hide it behind their painted fans and hands of cards.

Chuck smiled down at Blair, his heart swelling in his chest. Finally, it was official and in the eyes of society she was his. She was so beautiful, her brown eyes shining up at him, her red pouting lips begging to be kissed.

"Shall we give them something to really talk about," Chuck asked, smirking at her with eyes smoky with desire. "Kiss me, Blair?"

"Chuck," she hissed through gritted teeth. "You can't be serious. Everyone is watching. Do you want to damage my reputation even more?"

"I am not going to give you a chance to back out. Kiss me and let me compromise you until you have no choice but to marry me."

She opened her mouth to protest and he took advantage, his mouth swooping down to capture hers in the sweetest of kisses.

"We have given them something to talk about for years," Chuck murmured against her mouth to the shouts and whistles of the ladies and gentlemen of society.

With all the commotion it was easy to miss the approach of the Prince of Wales. Blair caught sight of him first, dipping into her lowest curtsey. Chuck soon followed offering his most obsequious bow.

"Finally caught at last, you sly devil," the Prince chuckled as he waved his hand at the couple. "I offer my heartfelt congratulations, young lady. You have done the impossible and captured the heart of the most confirmed bachelor in all of England."

Blair flushed prettily, her eyes sparkling. "I fear it is he who has captured my heart. He hounded me all over London until I had no choice but to say yes."

"Yes, well our favorite Duke has always had a flair for the dramatic. You must let me host a reception in your honor at Carlton house."

"You are too generous, Your Highness," Blair said, curtsying once more in gratitude. "We would be honored.

The Prince smiled with pleasure. There was nothing he liked more then showing off his home. Having spent the last few years collecting the most extravagant and exquisite artwork and furniture to be had, he loved having an excuse to host a grand affair.

"When is the wedding to be?" The prince asked, already contemplating how best to show off his latest pieces brought back from France.

"As soon as respectably possible," Chuck said with a leer at Blair.

His Highness laughed out loud, slapping Chuck on the back. "Eager to bed your lady are you? Giving Blair an appraising look from head to toe and back again the Prince smiled slyly. "Can't say I blame you."

Blair blushed even brighter, her cheeks now as red as ripe apples.

"Your Highness, it is to be a double wedding," Chuck added, winking at Blair.

"A double wedding? Splendid! Who is the other lucky couple?"

Blair snapped open her fan, blowing air on her heated cheeks. "My cousin Lady Serena van der Woodsen and Lord Archibald,"

"Lord Archibald is finally tying the knot?" The prince shook his head sadly. "Are all the young bucks in my kingdom mooning over the petticoats?" He joked.

"Just the pretty ones, Your Highness," Chuck said laughing.

"Where is Lord Archibald?" The prince bellowed, his question a royal command.

Instantly the crowd parted as Nate escorted Serena to the prince's side.

"Your Highness," Nate said bowing. "May I present my fiancé, Lady Serena van der Woodsen?" Serena shyly cast her eyes down, gracefully curtseying before the Prince.

The Prince of Wales smiled at Serena. "Lovely, simply lovely. Miss Waldorf, the females in your family are deuced pretty. Any other cousins you have hiding in the country? My mother is quite insistent I marry, provide an heir. Perhaps I can convince you to trade in your current suitor for another of higher standing," the Prince said lightly.

Society held it's breath as it eagerly waited to hear Miss Waldorf's reply. It was her first diplomatic test as a future Duchess. How could she gently turn down the very vain Prince without offending him? Her future was dependent on his goodwill. With a frown he could break her.

"I have no other cousins, your Highness," Blair replied, dimpling. "And I must confess my heart has belonged to you since the first time I met you, but alas, my honor has already been compromised by the Duke. Sadly and with a broken heart I shall just have to make do," she said flashing the Prince her prettiest smile.

His Highness stared at Blair, the silence in the room so audible a dropping hairpin could have been heard. Everyone waited breathlessly for his response.

A low chuckle rumbled deep in the Princes chest. Within seconds the chuckle grew to a hearty laugh that had everyone in the ballroom smiling and laughing with relief.

"Clever girl," The Prince said fondly before facing Chuck. "To bad you had to go and kiss her, compromising the poor girl."

Taking Blair's hand in his, he lifted her fingertips to his lips. "Faced with such beauty I found I couldn't resist, You Highness," Chuck murmured.

"A love match indeed," The Prince chuckled, glancing knowingly at Blair.

"Well, old friend, I shan't make you wait the traditional six weeks to wed. I can pull some strings and get you a special license. You shall marry in two weeks time," the Prince declared.

"I am eternally in your debt," Chuck said with a sly wink at the prince.

The Prince wagged his finger at Chuck. "No more compromising situations now, eh, Chuck."

"Don't worry, Your Highness. I shall keep him in line," Blair promised, giving Chuck her sternest look.

"I have no doubt you will, Miss Waldorf. No doubt at all," The prince said giving the couple a fond look. "Well, I must leave you to make my very unpleasant and boring rounds for the evening. Play the role so to speak."

Blair curtsied once more only to be surprised as the Prince pulled her out of her curtsy to kiss her hand. Flustered she turned her head to look at Chuck, only to find him smiling with pleasure.

Things had progressed further then Chuck had ever expected. His lady had successfully wooed and won the prince to her side. Any and all scandal attached to her name was now erased by her acceptance into his inner circle. Having her wedding hosted at the Prince of Wales home forcibly brought home to society and all of England his approval of her as a future Duchess and peer of the realm.

As soon as the Prince was out of earshot Blair and Serena fell into each other's arms squealing with delight.

"Well played, My Dear," Chuck said looking on at Blair proudly.

"It is a great honor by the Prince," Nate said under his breath to Chuck. "Did you have any idea he planned to offer Carlton House?"

"No. I am just as surprised as you," Chuck said shrugging his shoulders. "Although, at the rate Miss Waldorf gets into trouble it doesn't hurt to have the approval of the Prince. "

"You wouldn't have it any other way," Nate said looking at Chuck knowingly.

Chuck's eyes softened, a silly grin spreading across his face as he watched Blair and Serena excitedly plan their nuptials. "Never," he agreed.

* * *

"I can't believe he is marrying her," Georgina said angrily, watching the newly engaged couple with envious eyes.

Carter looked at her boredom etched into his face. "She is a pretty little thing."

"It doesn't make sense. Why hasn't she been ostracized by now? I know she drank the punch at Almack's and I have spread enough rumors about her gambling that every hostess in London should be shunning her."

"The power of the Duke's name and the protection of the prince goes far to erase any slight to her reputation," Carter replied, as he leaned in to try and steal a kiss.

Lady Sparks pushed him away with irritation. "She is nobody. A hayseed from the country who if she knew any better would return there before she is completely ruined."

"Be careful, Georgina. Tangle with Miss Waldorf and you face the wrath of Duke Bass," Carter warned.

"That is what I am hoping for. Chuck needs to be taken down a notch along with that trumped up fiancé of his. I will ruin her to the point that even Chuck will turn from her and the Prince will wash his hands with disgust."

Carter regarded her warily, as he brushed a speck of lint from his brocade suit coat. "I am assuming you have a plan?"

"Not just a plan, the plan to end all plans and all I need is you," Georgina stated, looking at Carter with crafty eyes. Leaning in she placed tiny kisses along his jawbone, her hand falling lower to caress his thigh through his trousers.

"What do you need?" Carter asked huskily, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her tighter to him.

Georgina chuckled low in her throat as Carter's hands strayed down to pinch her through the thin material of her dress. "A duel."

Carter's hands dropped to his sides in agitation. "Are you insane? The Duke is equally skilled with both pistols and swords. He would kill me in seconds and with no remorse. Besides dueling is forbidden by the Prince. If caught we would both be forced to flee the country."

"Don't worry," Georgina said indifferently, leaning in for a kiss. "There doesn't need to be an actual duel, just the threat of one."

"And just how are you planning to pull that off?" Carter murmured, brushing his lips over hers.

Georgina pulled away from him, looking at him mischievously over her shoulder as she headed into the gardens.

"You'll see."

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter, but it was necessary filler to set up the last scenes.

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: XxScarlettPrincessxX, Salma, Violet, GossipGirlFanForever, Lena Belle, uncorazonquebrado, chole92, Kate2008, lifesucks2104, peckforever, Poinsettia, sweetshorti868, Franci, E.F.B., EstrellaBass, READER120, Jamie, odyjha, Pao, Bea, cb, tiffany, TriGemini, Bye11, Syrianora, damnthatmotherchucker, pam halliwell, delphin4ik, bewiebowobawa, ggxoxo, abelard, CBIWBJ trory12, Edwardslover09, Kensley-Jackson, Lil Miss Chuckles and ChloeRose123.

Thanks also to my awesome beta's Shanynde and Kate.


	11. Chapter 11

Blair received Sir Carter Baizen's plea filled letter just as she was getting ready for Lord Devonshire's ball. Hand delivered by his valet she did not for one moment doubt its authenticity. While she knew Chuck had been furious about the rumors that had been spread about her visit to the gambling den, it surprised her he would go so far as to challenge Sir Baizen to a duel. That Sir Baizen would be so cowardly as to write to her to stop the duel, however, did not surprise her.

"Damnation," Blair cursed under her breath. Chuck was putting their very future in jeopardy by calling out Sir Baizen. If the Prince found out about this there would be no wedding, no reception at Carlton House. She really had no choice but to try and stop Chuck from making the biggest mistake of his life.

"What is it?" Serena asked as she finished pinning one of Blair's curls into place.

"Nothing." Looking in the mirror at her reflection, Blair's mind worked furiously to come with a believable reason to excuse herself from the ball.

"You look like you have seen a ghost." Serena stole a peak at the letter's crest, frowning when she recognized the Baizen coat of arms. "Why is Carter Baizen writing to you?"

Blair laughed weakly, raising her hand to rub her temple. "It seems the poor man has developed an unfortunate infatuation for me."

"What did he write?" Serena said scrunching her nose disdainfully.

"Only that he begs a dance with me this evening," Blair replied lightly, avoiding Serena's gaze.

"I can't imagine that will be agreeable to the Duke. I have a feeling your fiancé will not take lightly to another honing in on what he considers his."

Walking over to her bed, Blair collapsed on the mattress hiding the letter from under her pillow. "No, he won't," she said weakly.

Serena rushed to her friend, eying her with concern. "What is wrong?"

"I don't feel well," Blair lied, as she once more rubbed her forehead. "I think I have developed the most awful migraine. I really think I should stay home tonight."

"Are you sure?" Serena asked, looking at her friend suspiciously.

"Of course I am sure," Blair snapped. "Do you honestly think I would pass up a chance to see my fiancé?"

Serena regarded Blair intently, raising one eyebrow questionably. While Blair's behavior certainly was suspicious she knew that her friend would never willingly avoid seeing her fiancé. Ever since their engagement they had been scandalously inseparable. Society was not known for its love matches. That the Duke should be marrying for love over money or dynastic position was a social feather in Miss Waldorf's cap. She was the undisputed queen of the season. For Blair to cry off meeting her fiancé and showing him off at the ball meant she was truly sick.

"Shall I send for Mother?" Serena asked solicitously.

Blair shook her head, groaning. "No, I just want to rest. My head is killing me."

"I suppose it is possible you have overdone it. Ever since your engagement there has not been a party, ball or rout you have missed. Then there are the drives in the park with the Duke followed by his constant calling. When I think about it, it is surprising it took this long for you to start feeling the effects of your social life," Serena said sternly.

"You are so right, Serena. I don't know what I have been thinking. I have been just so afraid of losing Chuck that I have bent over backwards to be there for him, be the type of Duchess he needs." Casting her eyes heavenward Blair prayed God would forgive her little white lies.

"Oh, sweetie, you could never lose Chuck. If he had any idea he was wearing you to the bone he would be terribly worried," Serena said worriedly. "I have never seen anyone as in love as the Duke is."

Blair gripped Serena's hand, worriedly. "Please don't let him know we talked like this. It would worry him to no end."

"I won't as long as you promise to take it easy and not overdo it anymore. The parties are taking their toll and so are your interludes with Chuck. You need to rest more, Blair. Especially with the wedding days away."

"I know," Blair replied tiredly. "There is just so much to be done."

"You need to let me help more. From now on you are going to have to start sharing some of the wedding planning duties." Serena said giving Blair a stern look. "You don't have to do it all."

"I like doing it," Blair whined as she laid her head of the pillow, arranging her body so as to leave the minimal amount of wrinkles in her silk tissue gown.

"Sometimes you have to let others help you," Serena said gently, reaching out to touch Blair's shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"

Blair reached out to massage her forehead. "If you don't mind, S, I really just want to be left alone to rest."

"Do you want me to stay home with you?" Serena asked.

A ball of guilt formed in Blair's stomach at Serena's willingness to sacrifice her evening to play nursemaid to her. Turning her head to face the wall she mumbled, "No. You haven't seen Lord Archibald all day and I know he will be terribly disappointed if he doesn't get to see you. Besides, I don't want to keep you here when all I am going to do is sleep."

Serena patted Blair's back soothingly. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure." Blair replied miserably, hating that she was lying to Serena.

"Shall I ring the maid to bring you up anything? A tisane or smelling salts or perhaps a headache powder?" Serena asked solicitously.

Blair had to bite her tongue not to bark at Serena's customary kindness and graciousness. "I'll be fine," she murmured as she closed her eyes, pretending sleep was almost upon her.

"Well if you're sure…"

"I will be fine it you will just leave me to rest." Blair replied, almost but not quite hiding the irritation in her voice.

Serena looked at her cousin worriedly. "Promise me you won't get out of bed until I get back."

"Promise," Blair said guiltily crossing her fingers.

Giving her friend one last lingering look, Serena headed out the door, closing it gently behind her.

Blair lay as still as possible as she listed for the sounds of Serena and her Aunt Lily heading down the stairs, donning their wraps and finally making their way towards the courtyard. When at last she heard the clipping of the horses hoofs on the cobblestones and the carriage take off, she leapt out of bed.

Ringing for the maid she could barely stay still as the poor girl unbuttoned the back of her dress. Once undressed down to her chemise she dismissed her for the evening, giving her the night off. Slipping into the breeches she had just worn previously at the races, she hid her girlish curves behind the thick fabric. Unpinning the flowers Serena had so gracefully adorned her hairstyle with she brushed her locks out, pinning them up tightly under a top hat. Looking at herself in the mirror she realized that while there was no way she would pass as a man, she could certainly be mistaken for a teenage boy. She would have to remember to keep her head low and her posture bent if she wanted to pass as the shy schoolboy she was going to pretend to be.

Taking one last satisfied look in the mirror she headed out the door. Just as she was about to hit the stairs she realized that she was missing the one thing that no gentlemen prowling the night would be without. Sneaking into Eric's room she located the set of dueling pistols hidden underneath his bed. They had been her father's and she had been honored to pass them off to her dearest cousin. In return for her generosity Eric had been kind enough to teach her how to shoot. Blair had worked hard at her skill in the country and she now had the talent to tag a partridge at 30 paces away.

Loading the pistol as quietly as possible, being careful not to spill the gunpowder on the floor Blair readied the weapon. She wasn't planning on trouble, but if need be she was willing to shoot even Chuck, himself, if it meant keeping their marriage plans intact and him in the country. She was not about to spend years waiting for the King to pardon him in order that they could marry. Picking up Eric's greatcoat she shoved the weapon in the pocket, primed and ready.

Heading out the door, she faltered for one second, before realizing that perhaps it might be a good idea to at least let one person know her plans. Scratching out a quick note to Eric on parchment, she let him know her whereabouts and that she was stealing his horse for the evening and most importantly he should keep his mouth shut, at least until morning.

Sneaking out the back door, cloaked in darkness she stole into the stables. Offering Ebony his favorite snack of carrots, she patiently saddled him, swearing as she broke a perfect nail on his bridle. Cooing in his ear she calmed him down as she mounted him. Having been used to riding sidesaddle most of her life, riding astride was a bit of a surprise. It took a few minutes for her and the horse to adjust to the new sensations, but once they were headed out of the stables and on the road they found their rhythm.

Thankfully London was still small enough one could travel around the perimeter in several hours. Riding hard, Blair managed to make the trip much faster then she had planned. Arriving at the King's Inn, she threw a coin to the groom to stable her horse. Staggering in on legs unused to heavy riding Blair entered the inn. While shabby it was clean and well kept and judging by the numbers of men currently enjoying their tankards of ale, very popular.

"What can I do for you, young sir?" asked the busy innkeeper setting aside the goblets he was currently polishing.

"I'm here to see His Grace, Duke Bass?" Blair called out to the innkeeper.

The innkeeper regarded her blankly through grey grizzled eyebrows. "No one here by that name," he said gruffly.

Blair heart stopped in her chest. Surely she wasn't too late. The duel was scheduled for daybreak and the moon was still brightening the sky.

"I do have a Sir Baizen stationed upstairs. Could you be the party he was expecting?" He offered, avoiding meeting her eyes.

"Yes!" Blair replied hastily. "Could you please announce me? Sir Waldorf here to see Sir Baizen."

"Right this way, Sir," The man replied, doffing his hat respectably.

Blair followed as he led her up the polished wood stairs to the meeting rooms above the common room. Knocking on the heavy oak paneled door the innkeeper waited for Sir Baizen's response before ushering Blair into the room. With a short bow he left her there, closing the door behind him.

Blair stepped into the room cautiously, instantly searching for any sign of Chuck. Her eyes scanned the corners of the room taking in the merry fire in the fireplace, the tapestry wing chairs, the small dining table and the curtained bed that lay almost hidden in the back of the room.

Carter rose to meet her, taking her hand in his he placed a lingering kiss over her gloveless fingertips. "You came." His lips hot and moist slid over her skin left cold from riding outside in the elements. Pulling her hand abruptly out of his grasp she shoved it into the pocket of her greatcoat, wiping off his touch.

"Of course, I came." Blair snapped. "Where is the Duke?"

"Not here yet, but I expect him any minute," Carter replied, as he ogled her slim trouser clad legs. "I don't think I have ever seen a lovelier specimen of boyhood. Do you often dress this way?"

Blair looked at him scornfully, ignoring his leering. "How could you have been so stupid as to agree to duel with the Duke? His skill with pistols and swords is known through out all of England."

Thinking fast, Carter searched for an answer. "Do you think I had a choice? The man challenged me with half of London watching. It is a matter of honor now."

"He did?" Blair asked, her face paling. This was much worse then she had expected. How could Chuck have been so foolish? It was one thing to challenge a man privately, quite another to do so publicly.

"Can I take your coat?" Carter asked holding out his arm solicitously. "The fire in the fireplace makes this room uncomfortably warm."

He was right the room was almost stifling. Without even thinking Blair shrugged her coat off. Starting to hand it over the weight of it instantly reminded her of the weapon in her right hand pocket. Turning away from Carter she laid it across the back of one of the tapestry chairs, seating herself.

"How? When did this happen?" Blair asked, crossing her legs and leaning forward in her chair.

"Have you talked to your fiancé recently?" Carter asked lightly.

Blair raised an eyebrow at him disdainfully. "Of course. His Grace took me driving just this morning. "

"It happened this afternoon," Carter replied, breathing a small sigh of relief at his good fortune that the Duke hadn't been with Blair that afternoon. "I was just leaving a game of cards at one of the clubs when he waylaid me. Struck me right across the face with his glove, demanding satisfaction."

"He was spending the afternoon with Lord Archibald at the races," Blair said frowning.

"Did I say the club? I meant the races." Clearing his throat Carter walked over to the small table and poured out a glass of Madeira, holding it out for Blair. "Drink?"

Blair rose to her feet and began pacing, her boots making clipping noises across the floor. "No, I don't want a drink. This doesn't make any sense."

"That His Grace would call me out or that he would lie to you?"

Pausing in her pacing, Blair looked at him haughtily. "The Duke has no reason to lie to me."

"Are you sure about that?" Carter asked snidely. "It wouldn't bet the first time a man has lied to his fiancé."

Looking down her nose at Carter, Blair considered the matter. She hadn't known Chuck long, and while no doubt he was a scoundrel the one thing he had always been was honest with her.

"Not Chuck," Blair said firmly shaking her head.

Carter sighed, it was more difficult then he had expected to sow the seeds of doubt in Miss Waldorf. He would need to switch tactics if he hoped his little plot would succeed.

"Tell me again how Chuck called you out? Please don't spare the details," Blair commanded.

"I really think you should have a drink, Miss Waldorf," he said, once more holding out the glass of Madeira.

Years of training at her Aunt Lily's side in social etiquette won out as she accepted the goblet politely this time. Holding it she stared at the contents, deep in thought. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed off about this situation.

"The details, my Lord?" Blair demanded, tapping her foot.

"I would love to tell you," Carter replied as he gulped back his drink. "Unfortunately there is nothing to recall". Advancing on Blair step by step he cornered her against the table. "I truly hoped you would prove easier to be duped. However, you just had to do this the hard way," he sighed.

"Do what the hard way?" Blair asked as nonchalantly as she could even as his large person overwhelmed her causing the hard edge of the table to dig into her lower back. Never before had she felt so vulnerable, so tiny. Looking sidewise out of the corner of her eye she counted the number of steps to her coat. Never before had a few steps felt like miles.

"What do you think, Blair? May I call you that, Blair?" He didn't wait for an answer before plowing ahead. "Since we are about to become much more intimate it only makes sense we should use our given names." Carter chuckled, the sound sinister and ugly.

Stiffening her spine, Blair put on her bravest face. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Carter flicked a piece of lint from his waistcoat in boredom. "I think you know exactly what I am talking about,"

"Chuck is not coming is he?" Blair asked with a small voice, her eyes fluttering closed as the puzzle pieces of Carter's plan slowly fell into place.

"No, he is not."

"I see," Blair nodded as she accepted the truth of what was about to happen. Chuck had never challenged Carter to a duel. This had all been an elaborate hoax to get her alone so he could take liberties with her person, ruin her so no one would ever be able to marry her. Once it was known she had spent the night with a man at an inn every door of society would be closed to her. "What I don't understand is why?" Blair asked steadily her voice hardly trembling as she buried her sudden fear deep in her chest.

"Lady Sparks does not suffer injury lightly. You insulted her in front of the ton and then you had the misfortune of engaging yourself to the one person she had already chosen for herself," Carter said lightly, giving her a look that if circumstances were different Blair would have almost considering pitying.

"You can't keep me here."

"Actually, I can," Carter replied blandly. "I had the innkeeper lock the door on the way out. I am afraid we are stuck together until morning when he lets us out."

"Don't think I won't shout, scream and pound the walls until someone hears and rescues me."

"I quite expect it. Do you think the drunken patrons downstairs will care that an unprotected female is getting exactly what she came for when she entered the chambers of a man in the middle of the night. Not only that but you arrived in breeches and that can signal only one thing, you must be a lady of the night, a whore."

Raising her hand like a whip, Blair reached up to slap Carter.

Easily catching her wrist in his hands, Carter turned it over, kissing the palm as Blair forcefully tried to pull away.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Carter said lightly as if he were discussing a dance and not the loss of her innocence. "We can do this the easy way. I will be gentle and courteous with you since it is your first time and you will be appropriately grateful. Or we can do this the hard way," he said his eyes growing cold and determined.

"What is the hard way?" Blair spat out.

Carter took another drink, gulping down the last of the Madeira. "Let's just say your bedding will be very unpleasant and most likely filled with tears."

Facing each other, inches away Blair and Carter stood at an impasse.

"So what is it to be?" Carter asked blandly.

Blair swallowed hard, trying not to glance at her greatcoat draped over the chair. So very near, and yet so far.

"So what? You are going to keep me here over night, force yourself on me and then what?" Blair asked, trying to stall for time and distract Carter, as he moved in even closer to her.

"Do you honestly think His Grace will marry you once you are ruined. You will be no better then a common light skirt. Even if he could get past the fact that you had been with another, you would never be accepted into society once it is known you lost your virginity unwed and with another man other then your fiancé.

Blair knew he spoke the truth. Her reputation would be in tatters. She would be ruined and even if Chuck still wanted to marry her she wouldn't be able to let him. She couldn't bear to ruin him as well.

"Make it easy on yourself. I promise I can make this very pleasant for both of us. And who knows if you play your cards right and treat me very nice I might even marry you, save your reputation when this is all finished and through," Carter offered graciously with a smirk.

"You make me sick!" Blair yelled, as she dumped her goblet of Madeira on his head. Carter grabbed her by the shoulders, gripping her painfully, as he shook the liquid out of his hair. Blair struggled to get away, but she was trapped between the table and Carter, her great coat across the room.

"The hard way it is", he said cynically. Grabbing her by her hair he smashed his lips into hers, shoving his tongue in her mouth. Blair clawed at his face desperately trying to get away as he ripped her fine linen shirt in two. Standing in front of him in her chemise, her chest heaving, Carter was forced to stop and admire the view. "Truly lovely," he said with awe. "_Dear _Georgina was right, I am going to enjoy every minute of this."

Throwing Blair to the floor his eyes roamed over her breasts as she screamed and fought him. Pinioning her arms over her head with one hand, he took in the full beauty before him. Miss Waldorf was by far the loveliest virgin he had ever lain with and he was going to enjoy every minute of making her his.

Blair was suffocating, dying with every breath she took. Kicking him with her legs she tried to knee him, aiming exactly where Eric had showed her years ago. Unfortunately Carter seemed to know Eric's tricks and he constantly was moving to avoid her jabs at his manhood.

"Lay still, Miss Waldorf. This really doesn't need to be unpleasant. I promise I can make it quite fun."

Blair spat in his face.

"That is going to cost you," Carter sneered.

Twisting and flinging her body in every direction she tried to remove his position on top of her. Panting, with his free hand he worked to undo the buttons of her trousers.

Trapped Blair couldn't give up. There was no way she was going to give what belonged to Chuck to this monster on the dirty inn floor. Searching desperately for a weapon or a way to get to her coat she finally saw something that might help out of the corner of her eye; the metal chalice that had once contained the Madeira. Kicking up with her legs she made contact with the side of Carters knees. With the heel of her boot she kicked him hard in his bony knee. His yelp of pain was the only encouragement she needed to kick him again. Reaching to rub his sore limb he loosened his hand on her wrists. In that instant she reached for the goblet, hitting him in the head with it with all her might.

"Bitch," Carter swore as his fingers reached up to touch the blood that dripped down his temple.

Blair made a run for her coat, pulling it to herself as she frantically poked at the pockets.

Carter jumped up to follow her, cornering her against the chair, stalking her like a lion stalks his prey. Only he seemed to have forgotten that it is the lioness that should truly be feared as Blair finally freed her pistol from her pocket. Pointing it at his face, she calmly pulled the hammer back with a click.

"I will shoot you," Blair said coldly, her aim steady and her hand calm.

"I don't doubt it, but you seem to misunderstand things a bit." Carter replied, his breath shaky. "Whether you bed me or not your reputation will still be ruined by your spending the night with me. The innkeeper has orders not to open the door until morning no matter what happens. If you are going to point a gun at me instead of engaging in much more enjoyable activities the least you can do is let me sit down and get a drink. Think about it, Blair, you are compromised no matter how this plays out."

"Why all this to ruin me? What is in this for you?" Blair asked grimly.

"Besides the obvious?" Carter leered at her, unable to look away from her heaving chest, the way the tops of her bosoms peaked out of chemise. "Lets just say, Georgina amuses me and we have an arrangement."

Blair looked at him with disgust, his meaning quite clear.

"Since you are going to be pointing that gun at me all night, do you mind if I have a drink?" Carter asked, looking longingly in the direction of the half full pitcher of Madeira that lay on the table just out of his reach.

Blair waved the gun in his direction, acquiescing.

Carter smiled gratefully as he slowly made his way over to the table, his eyes never leaving the barrel of Blair's pistol. With trembling hands he slowly poured himself a drink, being careful not to spill the contents.

"Lady Sparks is insane," Blair offered.

"No doubt," Carter agreed, taking a deep steadying gulp of wine. "What happens now?"

Blair furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "I am trying to decide where I will have the pleasure of leaving my mark on you. Where would you prefer your bullet hole? Arm or leg?"

"Wait!" Carter exclaimed all color draining from his face. "What do you hope to accomplish with that? Your reputation is already _to _be ruined. Even if I don't tell the world where you spent the night Lady Sparks will."

"Maybe so, but at least I will have the satisfaction of seeing you suffer," Blair replied grimly, taking aim.

Scuffling was heard outside the door and the sound of a key in the lock. Blair and Carter looked at each other in puzzlement as the door opened with a bang and Chuck, Duke of Somerset rushed into the room sword in hand. His quick eyes surveyed the room missing nothing. Catching sight of Blair's gun pointed at Carter, he couldn't help the proud smile that spread slowly across his lips. That was until he caught sight of Blair's state of undress. With a murderous gleam in his eye, the muscles of his jaw clenched tightly he advanced on Carter.

"You are a dead man, _Baizen!_" Chuck said icily. "Pistols or swords?"

"Swords," Carter gulped out. "Less chance of permanent injury."

"Don't be ridiculous," Blair stated, staring hard at Chuck. "There will be no duel."

"That piece of filth dared put his hands on you!" Chuck spat out. "For that he doesn't deserve to live."

To Carter's relief, Blair lowered her pistol as she walked over to Chuck. Laying her hand soothingly on his arm, she peered intently into his eyes.

"I won't have you kicked out of court for dueling. If you fight him you put our entire future at stake. Are you really ready to give up our marriage just so you can get some sick satisfaction from a worm like Carter?" Blair asked, wrinkling her nose with disgust.

"Yes," Carter agreed eagerly. "The future duchess makes excellent sense. Why shoot a worm when you can go after the mastermind, Lady Sparks."

"I think I see a trip abroad in your future, Sir Baizen," Blair said.

"Do I have to? I do so hate traveling," Carter complained, as he watched Chuck's sword arm warily out of the corner of his eyes.

"It is either that or would you prefer to experience the pleasure to be found at the end of the Dukes sword?" Blair asked sweetly.

Carter didn't even hesitate before replying. "Traveling it is."

"Blair, he was going to destroy you and our life together. He deserves to suffer more then just having to spend his time outside the comforts to be found in his homeland," Chuck said icily, pointing his sword directly at Carter's throat.

Tilting her head to the side, Blair considered the matter. "You are right. Perhaps if he is punished properly, next time he will think better of dallying with innocent young females."

Taking aim Blair shot Carter cleanly through the shoulder, the bullet lodging itself in the wall behind him.

Stepping backwards from the force of the shot, Carter gripped his already bleeding wound with one hand. "Damn," he snarled. "I can't believe _it! Y_ou shot me!"

"Don't worry. It is only a flesh wound and will heal," Blair said disdainfully as if she was talking to a naughty child. "Just be glad I have such excellent aim and only shot to maim."

Chuck laughed low in his throat, his humor and pride causing Carter to look at him with shock.

"I always knew you had a cruel streak, Bass," Carter said grimly, as he fell into the nearest chair.

"Speak a word of this and I will not hesitate to kill you. You are only alive because of Miss Waldorf's mercy," Chuck threatened, his voice dark and sinister as he flicked his sword in Carter's direction. "On your way out of London would you please pass on a message to Lady Sparks for me?"

Carter nodded his assent, as he staunched the blood flow from his arm with his handkerchief.

"Tell her she may as well pack her bags for an extended stay out of the country. By morning I will ensure that not a single family in the ton will receive her. She is ruined here."

Lowering his weapon, Chuck walked over to Blair's coat. Lifting it from the back of the chair he lowered it gently over Blair's small figure.

"Boy's clothes again, My Dear?" Chuck murmured in her ear. "I trust you will save them for our wedding night. I find that I am growing quite fond of them."

Blair couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheekbones as Chuck held out his arm, leading her from the chamber.

Reaching the courtyard of the inn, Chuck embraced Blair as if she was made of the finest porcelain. Feeling safe for the first time that evening, Blair leaned into his touch, letting him envelope her in a cloak of warmth and love. Shivering against him, Blair let herself relax, banishing the fear she had carried ever since she had received Carter's note. To her shame she couldn't prevent the tears that streaked down her cheek.

"How did you know how to find me?" Blair asked as Chuck wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb.

"I told you before. There is no place you go, no where you could hide where I wouldn't find you," Chuck said, his voice resolute and filled with love.

"In other words you are having me followed," Blair laughed, amused she had not figured it out before. That was the only explanation for him to have saved her twice when she needed him the most. Instead of being angry about his actions, she accepted them for what they were, the ultimate display of his feelings for her.

"I am. I protect and take care of what is mine, and you Blair, have been mine ever since that afternoon in the moneylender's office when I fell head over heels in love with you." Pressing his lips to her soft hair, Chuck once more thanked his foresight in continuing to have the bow street runner on retainer. He tried not to dwell on what could have happened if he had not reached Blair in time. While she certainly seemed to have things under control, it terrified him to think of what might have happened if she hadn't had the foresight to take a weapon with her.

Blair clutched the folds of his suit coat, drawing as near to Chuck as possible. She needed to be close to him, loved by him after her ordeal. Never before had she been so scared and not just for herself, but for Chuck as well. Having fought him every step of the way in his pursuit of her she now knew she could never live without him.

Sweeping Blair in his arms, Chuck carried her into his waiting coach.

The footmen averted his eyes as he opened the door for the Duke and his passenger. Gathering her in his arms he placed her comfortably in his lap. Patiently aware of the shock that was just now registering with his fiancé he gently reassured her with tiny flutters of kisses the floated over her eyelids, her throat, and cheeks. When finally she started to respond, to his onslaught with breathy moans he captured her lips in a yearning kiss. Chuck swept his tongue over her plump pouting lips, begging for entrance to the hot heaven of her mouth. Opening her mouth Blair's tongue hungrily searched his out. Gentle soft kisses were forgotten in the hunger that threatened to devour them.

Chuck groaned aloud as the carriage came to a halting stop in front of the Van der Woodsen's rented home.

"I can guarantee there will be no more interruptions once we are married," Chuck said, his voice as thick and sensual as velvet. "Once you are mine I am not letting you out of bed for days."

"Chuck!" Blair exclaimed, giving him a scandalized look as the footman opened the door to the carriage.

Taking her hand in his Chuck turned it over, lifting her palm to his lips. "Promise me there will be no more late night rendezvous from now on? No more crazy escapades," Chuck paused to leer at Blair, "at least until we are married?"

"I promise," Blair said breathily, giving him one last longing look before climbing out of the carriage.

Chuck watched her walk daintily into the house, thankful that the van der Woodsens were still at the ball and they need not ever know what had expired this night.

"Home, Arthur," Chuck said as the footman closed the coach door. Stretching his legs, Chuck mentally counted the days, hours and minutes until his wedding night.

* * *

Thanks to my awesome reviewers: Salma, damnthatmotherchucker, bewiebowobawa, dreamgurl, Kuku Mademoiselle., SaturnineSunshine, Kate2008, Poinsettia, odyjha, Tiffany, delphin4ik, Izzie, ggxoxo, CBIWBJ trory12, RubyQueen, Syrianora, TriGemini, Krism, Edwardslover09, READER120 and Bye11. Your reviews keep me writing.

Thanks also to Kate, GossipGirlFanForever and Shanynde for all their beta work, help and encouragement.


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